


Life Adapted

by MGL_Dramione_Lover



Series: Far Less Lost Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Blaise Zabini is a Good Friend, Children, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Father Figures, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship/Love, Good Draco Malfoy, Grandfather Lucius Malfoy, Grandparents & Grandchildren, HEA, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Library Sex, Love, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Morning Sex, One Big Happy Family, Oral Sex, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Lucius Malfoy, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Lucius Malfoy, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Soul Bond, Twins, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 67,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26347999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MGL_Dramione_Lover/pseuds/MGL_Dramione_Lover
Summary: Sequel to A Little More Alive, Far Less LostSoul-bound Draco and Hermione are living a semi-perfect life with their growing family.  At least it was perfect until the one man with the power to ruin everything snakes his way back into existence.  Over nine years after the end of the war, Lucius Malfoy is released from prison to a world that has changed without him.  The only thing that has stayed the same is the love of his wife.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Series: Far Less Lost Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914562
Comments: 319
Kudos: 498





	1. Too Good to be True

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back, readers! I'm excited to start the sequel to A Little More Alive, Far Less Lost. The setting starts at the end of 2007, five years after the twins are born. 
> 
> If you haven't read A Little More Alive, Far Less Lost, you might be missing out on some references and background to this story. I suggest you read it first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you thought I am J.K.R., I am not. I own nothing.

**Chapter 1: Too Good to be True - November 14, 2007**

The sound of silence made early morning the best time of day. Without opening his eyes, Draco moved his hand from resting on his wife’s hip to the expanse of her presently flat belly. The previous afternoon, they’d been overjoyed to confirm that the Malfoy family would be expanding again with their fourth child in June of 2008. As his fingers drifted back and forth, he lightly pressed his magic into his wife, hoping the new baby would feel all the joy and love he felt at this moment. This time around would be much different than Hermione’s previous pregnancies. Somehow, they felt more prepared. 

When the twins, Cassiopeia Minerva and Scorpius David, came along, the couple was terrified of becoming parents. They approached parenthood the same way they approached everything else, they studied and learned about it. The Weasleys proved extremely helpful since they knew what to expect with raising twins. Though Molly wept when she spoke of Fred and George’s infancy, she repeatedly told them she wanted to discuss her twins even if it hurt her to think of her lost son. Arthur didn’t cry when he spoke of the boys; he just smiled wistfully as he recalled the days when they made the jump from three young boys to five. Draco and Hermione took notes on the tips and tricks the Weasleys had shared, and Molly practically lived with the new family for the first month after Cassie and Scorp were born. Though Scorpius was a dream baby, hardly crying and always alert, Cassie hardly slept the first year, was a fussy eater and required constant attention.

Orion Rubius had come as a surprise when the twins were three years old. Having just one infant at a time almost seemed easy compared to having two. Like his older brother, Ori too was a wonderful baby. Right from the start, he proved that he would someday be a powerful wizard by showing extremely early signs of magic. Normally, magical children had bouts of accidental magic when they were about four or five years old, but Ori was beginning to actually control his magic at the age of two. It was nearly unheard of to have a child that young even display magic, let alone control it. Luckily, Headmistress McGonagall allowed Hermione and Draco to interview Dumbledore’s portrait about Ori’s talent since the former Headmaster was rumored to have done the same as a small boy. 

Now, the twins would be five and Ori two when the new baby arrived. Parenting was hard, but Hermione and Draco didn’t have to do it alone. Of course, they had the Weasleys, the Grangers, and Narcissa to help at a moment’s notice. 

After growing up as only children, neither Draco nor Hermione wanted a big family. The blond wizard enjoyed fatherhood so much, he made sure his children knew how much he loved them all the time. They’d never feel unwanted like he often felt growing up. He knew his wife would probably be done after this baby arrived, but it made him sad to think that he only had one more chance to become a father. Obviously, Lucius was a terrible example to emulate, so the young Malfoy had learned everything he knew about the subject from the best dad he knew, Arthur Weasley. From the first Christmas he’d spent at the Burrow, Draco wanted his own children to look at him the way Arthur’s children, real and adopted, viewed him. At this point, even Hermione, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco called him dad. It was hard not to when everyone around them called him that whenever they were together, which was almost always. 

“Are you watching me sleep,” Hermione asked groggily. The blond wizard smiled at his wife. Merlin, she was beautiful! How could he not watch her sleep? 

“You know how I can’t keep my hands off of you when you’re carrying my babies,” he smirked, pulling her closer to him and snuggling into her neck. 

“ _You_ don’t keep your hands off of me whether I’m pregnant or not,” she countered. 

“Is that so bad?” he questioned innocently as he smoothed his fingers up and down her sides. Her breath hitched and a small moan escaped. “It sounds to me like you rather enjoy my attention,” he whispered seductively, slipping his hand below her knickers. 

“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed in response. Draco teased his wife with his fingers, building her up to a crescendo of pleasure, and she bit his shoulder to keep herself from screaming his name. He readjusted his position, his hips between her thighs, and finally pushed inside her, growling into her mouth. After all these years, she felt perfect every time. As he built a rhythm, a hard knock on their bedroom door startled them both.

“Mummy!” Cassie screamed from the other side. The blond wizard dropped his head to Hermione’s shoulder. “Scorpius won’t let me play with-”

“Are you about to tattle?” Draco yelled in exasperation. Hermione shook with laughter beneath him. He heard what he assumed was his daughter’s little foot stomping on the floor. “We’ll be out shortly. Play in your room with _your_ toys until we are ready to make breakfast!” he called when she didn’t answer. 

Though he hadn’t heard any retreating footsteps, he cast a silencing charm and kissed Hermione passionately. In this situation, time was limited. He either was able to steer his wife back in the mood immediately, or she would end things before she was able to come again or he was able to come at all. Moving his lips to the spot behind her ear that he knew drove her crazy, he began to build up his rhythm again. 

“Draco,... please…,” the curly-haired witch breathed after a few minutes. Salazar’s balls, he lived to hear her beg for him! Knowing how close his wife was to coming apart, he moved his thumb between them, circling her overly-sensitive bundle of nerves. It didn’t take long for Hermione to reach the peak of her pleasure as the Slytherin wizard followed her over the edge. They were both breathing heavily when there was another knock at the door, this one not as desperate as the last. A moment sooner and the couple’s whole morning would have been ruined.

“Daddy?” Scorpius called politely. Draco cast a quick Scourgify, pulled on the boxer briefs he’d thrown aside earlier, and pulled the blankets over Hermione.

“Come in, Scorp,” he answered his son. The little blond walked in, fully dressed, and ready for the day. By far, their oldest son was the most responsible child they knew. 

“Good morning, Mummy and Daddy!” the boy greeted his parents politely as he climbed on their bed and into Draco’s lap. “Might we have crepes this morning for breakfast?” he asked sweetly with his gray eyes pleading and wearing a charming smile to rival his father’s. It was scary how much both his sons resembled Draco. It was as if Hermione hadn’t passed along any physical traits to Scorpius at all. At least Ori had her curls and nose, but he mostly looked like a curly-haired version of a young Draco. 

“I’m sorry, darling, but Mummy has an early appointment this morning, and I don’t have time to make crepes _and_ clean up the mess too,” Hermione answered. Scorp’s smile faltered.

“It’s okay, Mummy. Maybe another time,” he said sadly. Draco exchanged a look with his wife. There was no way he wanted to let that sweet face down. 

“If Mummy makes them, I will clean everything up and go to work just a few minutes late,” he offered in hopes Hermione would take pity on their handsome son. She glared at him for a moment.

“Alright. I’ll make them, but you need to help me get your brother and sister ready for the day while I cook,” she said apprehensively. Scorpius jumped off Draco’s lap to report the good news.

“Cassie! Ori! They said yes!” the little blond yelled as squeals of delight erupted down the hall. 

“You’re a sucker,” Hermione teased her husband. He pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek.

“I could be like my father instead. Would you like that better?” he countered. She scrunched her nose in disgust and shook her head. Draco kissed her again then hopped off the bed to take a shower. It took so little to be his children’s hero that he couldn’t resist.

* * *

What was reality when you were rotting in a small cell for years of your life? The only thing that tied Lucius Malfoy to this world was the weekly letters he received from his wife. If she hadn’t dated each note she sent him, he’d have no idea how much time had passed since his incarceration. Over nine years was a long time for a man to sit and think. A few years ago, she had written to inform him that Draco had found his soul-bonded mate though she never mentioned a name. Maybe she was a pure-blooded witch from another country though that didn’t explain why he’d noticed the faint markings of the bond on Draco’s back during his third year. 

Lucius was only permitted to send one letter a month, but Narcissa never answered his questions about his new daughter-in-law nor had she ever passed along sentiments from his son. In fact, Draco hadn’t sent one correspondence since Lucius had been locked in this hellish place. It stung that his only child wouldn’t bother to contact him. Even a note about the finances or questions about the family business would have been a nice reprieve. Maybe the soft-hearted boy had hardened up once he became the head of the household. Perhaps Draco was more cunning than he thought and distancing himself from Lucius for a while was the only way to climb his way back to the top. 

“Your solicitor is here again to discuss your release,” a guard said through a communication screen. It was hard to tell if he was imagining the voices coming through the box on the wall or if they were real. As of late, his imaginings were that he had a new solicitor that called herself his daughter-in-law. Whenever he asked her name, she simply said, “Mrs. Malfoy” in return. What kind of person didn’t properly introduce themselves? Maybe that is why Cissa never mentioned this girl. He knew his wife was hiding something, so it was likely if she didn’t approve of Draco’s choice, she’d avoid the topic altogether. If this woman was real, he’d use her to get him out of this place then be rid of her after she’d carried the next Malfoy heir.

“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” the familiar feminine voice greeted him through the box. Lucius nodded, knowing they had some way of seeing him though he rarely had an opportunity to see other people in the flesh. It had been a mistake to threaten the Mudblood when he’d found out his son married her all those years ago. Of course, they would need her to restore the family name. He was proud of Draco for having the foresight to convince the girl to enter a marriage of convenience with him. If he had her killed, it would ruin his son’s sacrifice. “Through excruciating negotiations, I was able to convince the Wizengamut to release you. I have a date for you, Sir,” she informed him.

“If you are not in fact a figment of my imagination, then that is wonderful news. I thank you,” he replied, still skeptical if he conjured this moment in his dreams or not.

“I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, I _am_ real, and you will be a semi-free man on January 14, 2008,” the alleged daughter-in-law chuckled. 

“May I ask you a ques-,” he paused mid-thought, his lethargic brain grasping onto a word she used, “ _Semi-_ free? What does that mean?” Lucius demanded, suddenly concerned. 

“We discussed the terms last time I visited, Mr. Malfoy. Did you forget?” she sounded frustrated.

“To be honest, I can’t tell if I am hallucinating or sentient half of the time, so I wasn’t really paying attention. A daughter-in-law who won’t tell me her name and is fighting to get me out of Azkaban seemed too far-fetched to be real,” he explained. The girl sighed loudly. 

“I understand,” she said with forced calmness. “Instead of a _twenty-year_ sentence in Azkaban, you’ll be released to Malfoy Manor for the remainder of your time. There will be limited opportunities to leave the Manor with written approval from the Ministry. All of your correspondence will be reviewed by a Ministry-approved official. Lastly, you may not use a wand until the end of your sentence,” she listed off the terms as if she were checking off a list. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. _Malfoy_ , or so you say, but it sounds much too similar to what I am already doing. What exactly did you fight for with the Wizengamot?” Lucius asked haughtily. 

“I apologize for assuming that seeing your family every day would be all the freedom you require for the next eleven years. Shall I report to your wife that you’ve turned the deal down? Her love isn’t quite strong enough to pull you beyond the walls of your cell?” the witch fumed. 

“No! Of course, that isn’t what I meant. Cissa is my _only_ reason to keep going every day,” Lucius stated desperately. He ran his wrinkling hands through his long, greasy locks in a panic. 

“It is a wonder that Draco turned out so wonderful with a prat like you for a father. You are the single most selfish human being I have ever had the displeasure of knowing, Mr. Malfoy,” she said angrily. 

“My son. You’ve never mentioned him. How is he?” he asked, a sense of longing lacing his words. The older Malfoy hadn’t expected the sound of Draco’s name to stir something within him. He couldn’t pinpoint the feeling, but it was something akin to how he felt the moment he held his baby boy for the first time. Pride maybe? He didn’t know. The feeling was foreign to him. 

“I’ve been here seven times in the past year, and you’ve never asked anything about him,” she stated simply. They sat in silence for a moment before she said, “You will be released in less than two months’ time. For some reason, Narcissa is looking forward to your return. Try not to fuck it up.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” he tried to sound grateful this time. 

Silence. She was gone.


	2. Resolutions

**Chapter 2: Resolutions - December 31, 2007**

“Grandmother Cissy will take excellent care of you, my loves,” Hermione said, hugging the children one more time before she and Draco left for a New Year’s Eve party at Harry and Ginny’s house. 

“Daddy, will you come to get me if James is at the party?” Cassie asked sweetly, her large brown eyes pleading with him. Draco exchanged an exasperated look with his wife.   
“I already told you, Princess. James and Al will be at Grammy Molly’s for the evening,” he said, kissing her on top of her curly, dirty blond head. “Now, give me the biggest goodbye hug, and I’ll see you tomorrow after lunch,” he told his daughter. The little girl didn’t hesitate to throw her arms around Draco’s neck and squeezed him as tightly as her tiny arms would allow. 

“You look the most handsome tonight, Daddy. I think Mummy thinks so too,” Cassie whispered loudly into her father’s ear before leaving a wet kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re too kind, but I hope you’re right about Mummy,” he whispered back with a grin. “Be good tonight. I love you,” the blond told his daughter. 

“Daddy! Grandmother Cissy says I can read some of your old books from when you were a boy!” Scorpius cheered as Draco scooped him up. For every bit that his oldest son looked like his dad, he was definitely his mother’s son. Hermione had taught both of the twins to read, but Scorp loved books just as much as his mum. 

“I can’t wait to discuss them with you tomorrow when I get home. I hope you like them as much as I did.”

“I will!” he exclaimed.

“Tonight, you are the man of the house. Make sure you are well-behaved for Grandmother Cissy and help her with your sister and brother. I expect you to practice your gentlemanly manners throughout the evening,” Draco warned his son.

“Yes, Father. I know,” the young boy sighed. “I will pull Cassie and Grandmother’s chairs out for supper and stand when a lady enters the room as I’m supposed to.”

“Good man! I love you, Scorp,” he said giving the boy another hug. Walking over to his mother, who was holding Ori in her arms, Draco gave his youngest child a hug and a kiss goodbye. “Thank you, Mother. We appreciate you taking care of them tonight.”

“Nonsense, darling. It is my pleasure,” she said, shooing Hermione and Draco over to the floo. As the couple disappeared into the flames, they waved goodbye to the children.

By the time they entered the large drawing-room, it was full of old and new friends. If Draco was honest, it was mostly Aurors, Ginny’s Harpies teammates, and Weasleys, but that suited him just fine. Kreacher was serving drinks from behind a makeshift bar and hors d'oeuvres floated around the room above the crowd. 

“What the fuck is all over your cheek, mate?” Blaise asked with disgust in lieu of a greeting.

“Damn it, Granger! I asked you not to let Cassie play with that muggle makeup Pansy gave her,” Draco griped, clearing the mess with his wand. His wife laughed at him. 

“How can I resist when you look so cute?” she wagged her eyebrows and kissed his cheek. 

“It’s too early for you two to start making the rest of us sick with your love,” Blaise sneered playfully. “Granger, be a doll and let me talk to your husband for a moment,” he said, playfully waving her off. 

“Blaise and Luna sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” the cheeky witch sang as she backed away and disappeared into the crowd of their friends. The Italian wizard’s face flushed.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Zabini cringed.

“It’s some sort of muggle children’s song or something. Stop changing the subject and tell me whatever it is you want to talk about.” 

“Alright, don’t be such a prat about it,” Blaise sniffed. “And stop reporting everything I tell you about Luna to your wife while you’re at it,” he complained, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“A blind troll could sniff out your feelings for her. Even Weasley figured it out years ago, you git!” Draco chuckled. Somehow, the Italian wizard was surprised by this news. His mouth temporarily dropped as he took in this new information. 

“I kissed her on Christmas!” he burst out suddenly in an uncharacteristic loss of composure. 

“What? You better have stopped whatever you were doing with that French tart you were seeing!” the blond wizard scolded in a harsh whisper. “Hermione will kill me if you ruin this! For fuck’s sake, Zabini! This is why you were supposed to stay away from Luna until you could be serious and  _ committed!  _ It’s already been a few years. Either pursue her like a man or just leave her alone!”

“I  _ know _ , alright!  Believe me, mate, I  _ am  _ serious this time,” he argued.  “As soon as I saw  Dominique, I told her it was over.”

“Was this before or after you kissed Lovegood?” Draco demanded angrily.

“Look, she knows, okay,” the Italian wizard confessed. He looked dejected. It was the first time the blond had ever seen his best mate remorseful. 

“What did she say when you told her?”

“It’s terrible...,” he looked away embarrassed, “...she thanked me for all the times I made her believe we could ever fall in love and said she’ll cherish the memories of the hope she had for us...Please, Malfoy, I need help. How do I fix this?”

“I already told you how to fix it,” George interjected, clapping Blaise on the shoulder. “Harry, come here!” the Gryffindor called across the room. 

“Your idea is the worst and please stop drawing attention to us!” the flustered Slytherin begged. “I don’t want to hear Potter’s opinion on the matter again. He made himself quite clear already.”

“Do you agree with George, Draco?” the dark-haired wizard questioned as he approached the group. Folding his arms across his chest, Blaise scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes again. 

“I haven’t heard what his plan is, but judging by Zabini’s reaction, it’s probably perfect,” the Slytherin responded, earning a hard glare from his best mate. 

“He needs to make some sacrifices. For one, tell her he wants to spend time with her as friends at first and let her set the pace. Secondly,  _ no sex _ for at least six months,” George looked poignantly at Blaise on that condition. “Lastly, he needs to forget about every other woman in the world.” 

“The first and last point I can agree to, but it is cruel to go that long without shagging, and I  _ refuse _ to entertain that stipulation. How do you expect me to win her over if I can’t feature the one thing that makes me worth all the trouble?” Zabini argued, seething when his three friends burst out laughing at his reasoning. 

“Sorry, mate, but you’ve been leading this girl on for almost a decade. You’ve got to show her how serious you are about her,” Draco explained. “You need to make a grand gesture of sacrifice, something that you can’t buy with all your galleons in Gringotts.” 

Abruptly, Blaise’s eyes shot toward the floo just as Luna appeared in a burst of green flames, pulling along a tall, dark-haired wizard. Hermione and Pansy were the first to welcome the newcomers to the party. The two pregnant witches glanced awkwardly at Zabini after being introduced to Luna’s guest. Lifting his hand from the small of Pansy’s back to shake the tall wizard’s hand, Ron also turned toward the Slytherin to offer his own grimace of pity. 

“That’s rough,” Ginny exclaimed as she sidled up to the group of wizards. “I bet all those years of being a blind prat don’t seem worth it now,” she remarked cooly.

“Is now the time for that, Gin?” the Italian wizard nearly whispered, eyes fixed on the blond witch across the room. With a bit of compassion, Ginny squeezed her best friend’s arm to comfort him. 

“No more games, Blaise. If you really want her, we’ll go distract her friend,” Ginny suggested. For a moment, they all stood there waiting for Zabini’s decision.

“Alright, mates, let’s go unfuck my mistakes,” the pining wizard said as he started to cross the room toward Luna and her date, his pack of friends trailing closely behind. 

* * *

**January 4, 2008**

Something was different today. He couldn’t be sure if it was a nightmare or not, but four guards suddenly descended upon him. They dragged him out of his cell down what seemed like an endless hallway. Finally, they threw him into another porcelain room and sprayed him with cold water. They handed him a chipped bar of soap and yelled at him to wash his body and hair. Normally, someone would come in his cell and cast a cleaning spell, but to actually scrub himself was a luxury he hadn’t known since his sentence began. The sharp smell of the lye, the four sets of eyes watching him in this vulnerable position, the cold water turning his pale skin blue: none of it mattered because he would be truly clean. 

When he finished, he was given a rough towel to dry off and the black robes he’d been wearing when he was arrested so many years ago. His emaciation became quite apparent when he put on the clothing that was once tailored perfectly to his body. It practically engulfed him as if he was a child trying on his father’s robes. 

“Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you are hereby released to the custody of your wife, Narcissa Malfoy, under the supervision of the Ministry of Magic, for the remainder of your 20-year sentence…” a Ministry official droned on, but all Lucius heard was that he would be returned to his Cissa. Merlin, what would she think of this shell of a man she married so long ago? It didn’t take a genius to know his body was frail compared to the muscular stature he once had, and his prized hair was turning white and brittle. 

“Answer the question, Prisoner Malfoy!” one of the guards barked at him. Lucius hadn’t heard a question, but he could assume they asked him to agree to the terms of his release.

“Yes, Sir,” he answered without pause. 

“Excellent. You are quite lucky to have such an influential daughter-in-law. Otherwise, you’d be rotting in that cell for the rest of your prison term,” the Ministry official said bitterly. Lucius nodded contritely. Suddenly, he was being dragged again by two Aurors toward a floo. 

“Malfoy Manor!” the taller of the two Aurors called as he threw in the floo powder and they disappeared into the flames together. It was almost sickening to be spinning so quickly. It had been ages since he traveled this way. 

Abruptly, they landed on the floor of a large drawing-room. It was both familiar and foreign. The decor was different, much more light and welcoming than the dark colors his wife usually preferred. Where was his witch? Why wasn’t she waiting for him if she was truly looking forward to his return? Worse, what if she’d taken a lover while he was gone? He hadn’t permitted himself to think of this while he was locked away lest he be lost to his tortured mind forever. Somehow standing here, in his ancestral home, after all these years made the possibility seem very real. The mere thought of his witch in the arms of another man made Lucius’s breath come fast. His heart sped to a galloping pace. Blackness blinded his opened eyes. He was falling. One of the Aurors caught him before he hit the ground.

“You’re here,” Narcissa practically whispered from the doorway. Merlin, he couldn’t face her like this. As if his deteriorating physical features weren’t mortifying enough, this moment of weakness would be her first view of him since his trial. 

“Mrs. Malfoy, lovely to see you again,” the tall Auror said kindly, standing Lucius back up properly while speaking with  _ his  _ wife in a familiar tone. The blond wizard glared at the Auror in a jealous rage.

“You as well, Auror Davidson. Please do send my best to your wife,” Narcissa answered in the polite tone she reserved only for guests. It was then that Lucius could bring himself to look at her. Breathtaking. His witch was just as beautiful as the day they’d met. The day her father first brought her to Malfoy Manor to sign their marriage contract. “I shall have her for tea soon,” she continued her conversation with the wizard who held Lucius upright.

“She’ll be pleased to hear it,” the Auror replied with a smile. His partner looked agitated by the pleasantries and had shifted his stance several times impatiently.

“Down to business now, Davidson. This isn’t a social call,” the other Auror scolded his partner. 

“Right. We already went through the legal paperwork when you came by the Ministry, but we wanted to remind you about a few safety precautions,” Davidson said as he pulled out a scroll. “First, should the prisoner threaten or become physical with anyone, please don’t hesitate to summon an Auror immediately with the wandless spell we taught you,” he started. Dear Merlin, did they expect Lucius to hurt his own wife? What a ludicrous assumption! “Second, the prisoner has been made aware that while his magic was not taken from him, no wand will respond to his touch until his sentence ends. Lastly, the trace attached to the prisoner only permits him on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. There is no warning if he ends up out of bounds, just a team of Aurors respond immediately to take him back to Azkaban. Do you have any questions?” he asked. 

“My daughter-in-law made the stipulations of his homebound imprisonment quite clear, however, she told me to expect him on the fourteenth of January and today is only the fourth. Was there some sort of mixup?” she wondered. The two Aurors exchanged a look. 

“We won’t go as far as to say she was  _ wrong  _ about the date, but all of the paperwork clearly says the fourth,” Auror Davidson replied hesitantly. Narcissa smiled at the two wizards. 

“I won’t tell her if you won’t,” she chuckled along with them. Who was this witch his son married? She was influential enough to get him released from Azkaban  _ and _ instilled fear in those who argued against her. Lucius couldn’t think of a single Slytherin in Draco’s year that could possibly possess such qualities. Maybe it was one of the witches in the year below him? That would explain how he developed the markings of the bond so early. Perhaps they’d accidentally brushed past one another in the common room or something similar. 

“It’s a deal. Now, if you’re quite sure, we will take our leave,” the shorter Auror said cautiously, pulling Lucius from his musings. 

“I thank you, gentlemen,” his wife replied.

“We’re only a spell away if you need us,” Auror Davidson called as the two stepped through the floo, leaving Lucius and Narcissa alone for the first time since the Dark Lord had moved his headquarters into the Manor. 

For an immeasurable amount of time, they simply stood there staring at one another, cataloging the changes one can only appreciate after spending nearly a decade apart. Smile lines and eye crinkles he’d never noticed before revealed her happiness in this new life. She was softer too. There was something motherly about her that reminded him of the joy she used to exude when holding Draco as an infant. Her hair was loosely pulled back instead of the tight bun she used to wear. It was almost as if this time apart had freed her somehow. 

“Lucius, do you plan on just standing there all night?” Narcissa grinned, raising an eyebrow. Her voice, how he missed the sound of it. 

“I’m still trying to decide if I’m dreaming or if this is real,” he said truthfully.

“Why don’t you come over here and find out?” 

“Witch, if I come over there and you’re not real, I will lose my will to ever wake up again. Is that a chance you want to take?”

“I’ll risk it,” she said seductively. Was it possible that she still wanted him? He charged forward, two whole strides longer than the length of his cell, wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her with the passion of a man starved of love for far too long. Whatever may come, Lucius had his Cissa, and nothing could ruin that. 


	3. Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Readers! Thank you all so much for the kind comments and kudos so far! I appreciate all your feedback!
> 
> Lucius will finally meet some grandchildren in this chapter, so you'll see how that goes.

**Chapter 3: Visitors - January 6, 2008**

“I’ll never forgive George for this arrangement,” Blaise complained as he and Draco were seated for lunch at a brand new restaurant that opened in the Ministry food court. “That lanky prat from the party, Rolf, or whatever the fuck his name is, showed up when I took Luna to dinner last night. She said she wanted us all to be  _ friends _ ,” he said with disdain. 

“You did offer her friendship to start. Maybe she is testing out how serious you really are or just messing with you,” Draco suggested. 

“Her mind doesn’t think like that. I don’t think she has it in her to be manipulative. She’s too pure. It’s one of the things I love most about her,” he said reflectively. “Salazar knows I need a witch that always cuts right to the chase and tells me exactly what’s on her mind.”

“Does my brutal honesty with you count for nothing?” the blond wizard joked. 

“Do you think they’re shagging, and I’m the third wheel?” Blaise wondered as if Draco hadn’t spoken at all. 

“I think bringing the lanky prat into the picture at all was the perfect way to finally get your attention and commit to the poor witch.”

“She doesn’t play games like that.”

“Perhaps she isn’t playing a game but is just trying to move on,” Draco said. “Lovegood isn’t easily ruffled, however, you’ve never shown her more interest than flirting, staring at her like a lovesick Pygmy Puff, or insinuating you wanted to shag if she’d ever let you. Even  _ her _ patience would wear thin after so much time has passed with you making  _ no _ effort to further the relationship.”

“So, you think I’m too late?”

“No. I think you’re right on time. Any earlier and you would have completely fucked it up,” he said thoughtfully. There was no way Blaise would have been ready for a commitment before now. He’d been drawn to Luna since their eighth year at Hogwarts but didn’t want to drag her into his bullshit and hurt her. The Italian wizard tried to hide his frequent correspondence with the bizarre witch, but Draco always knew his best mate was infatuated. Every time Blaise saw her in person, he would practically melt. Normally he had no problem talking to women, but with Luna, he became visibly nervous. She was the only witch that held any power over him. 

“Malfoy!” someone called from behind him. Draco turned to see Oliver Blythe approaching. It had been ages since he’d seen the younger wizard. After graduating from the Auror Curse-Breaking program, he’d attended many of the young Slytherin’s games at Hogwarts. He’d gone on to play on a minor league Quidditch team once he’d finished school, and Draco, Harry, Ron, Blaise, and George would often go see him play. Sometimes they’d bring their kids along, and Oliver would sign their jerseys or let Arthur take pictures of him posing with the little ones. The older Weasley’s favorite pose was to have the semi-famous seeker as he jumped and caught a snitch in the air while the children surrounded him and cheered. 

“Good afternoon, Blythe. What are you doing at the Ministry?”

“I came to find you, and Harry told me you were here. You’ll never believe what happened!” the young wizard grinned.

“Tell me you were finally recruited by the pros!” Draco exclaimed as Blythe nodded emphatically.

“Even better, it’s for the Falmouth Falcons!”

“Excellent. If you said any other team, I was debating on whether I’d still be able to support you or not,” Blaise remarked sarcastically. The younger wizard clapped the older Slytherin on the shoulder and laughed.

“Which is exactly why I’m giving season tickets to Malfoy and not you, Zabini. At least he’d come to watch me play for any team,” Blythe chuckled as he handed the blond five season tickets with a bow around them. 

“Thank you, Oliver. This means a lot to-,” Draco started before Blaise cut him off.

“Just sit down and have lunch with us, you cocky little prat.”

“Let me know if you need more. I was just thinking of the guys when I got the tickets, but you’ll probably want to take your kids sometimes too,” Blythe said as he sat down.

“This is perfect, Mate!” Draco exclaimed, truly touched with the kind gesture. “Just make sure they sell your jersey in pink for Cassie, otherwise I’ll never get her to wear it.”

“I’m sure her godmother will gladly have one made with sparkles and everything,” Blaise chuckled. 

“Only Pansy could come up with a couture Quidditch jersey,” Draco said, shaking his head. The Slytherin witch loved to spoil Cassie with everything girly since her own three-year-old, Rose, didn’t care for pretty things no matter how hard her mother tried to dress her up.

“Have Pansy get two of those jerseys made, so I can get my teammates to sign one for her to hang in her room. We’ve got to make sure she keeps loving the sport, so she can play for Slytherin one day,” Blythe said excitedly. 

“Not a chance! That one has too much of her mother in her to ever become a Slytherin. The twins will either both be Ravenclaw or Cassie will be just like her mother and be sorted into Gryffindor,” Blaise guessed. “Now my godson, Ori, will definitely be a snake. It doesn’t matter that he’s some sort of baby genius because he’s a  _ cunning _ little bookworm just like his dad!”

“Which team will you cheer for if you have three playing for different houses?” Blythe asked, furrowing his brow in question.

“Slytherin!” Draco and Blaise exclaimed at the same time.

* * *

The tedium of being alone had worn on Lucius during his extended imprisonment. Regardless of how large the Manor was, he didn’t want to be by himself ever again. It was for this reason that his wife had waited so long to leave him to purchase some necessities. Cissa had left for the shops just minutes ago to have new robes made for him and run a few errands. He already missed her. 

The last day and a half had been the most enjoyable in his memory. They’d made love like a couple of teenagers, never satiated, and hardly leaving their master suite. The few house elves she kept around brought all their meals to the ensuite sitting area, a slight transgression Lucius would have never allowed years ago. Part of him wanted to return to the order of his old life, but it felt so wonderful to appreciate every moment with his wife without rules to hold them back. If she hadn’t reminded him to eat, he’d have just continued to hold her in his arms for as long as he could. It would take him time to find his appetite again, but at least the food they ate was palpable, unlike the putrid slop he was served in Azkaban. 

While Cissa was gone, he’d planned to take this time to reacquaint himself with his home. His wife had almost the entire Manor remodeled since she wanted to forget how it looked and felt during the war. For all his faults, allowing his wife to be under the thumb of a maniac was perhaps the worst thing he’d ever done. His choices were limited. One did not simply disagree with the Dark Lord and live to tell about it. Once the Malfoys had lost favor with the evil wizard, they’d almost lost the Manor. Voldemort had reworked all the wards, allowing many of his unfavorable followers to apparate in and out as they pleased. Apparently, Draco had restored them now, and they were even stronger than before. 

It was strange how his wife wouldn’t speak directly about their son to him. She’d gloss over him occasionally, but avoided direct questions about the boy’s life. When Lucius asked when Draco would come to visit, Cissa had brushed it off as if she wanted to keep her husband all to herself for now. 

While Lucius walked through the halls, he noticed that all of the portraits had been silenced. They seemed to be screaming at him, the rage apparent in their glaring faces. In spite of their fowl dispositions, he’d take their conversation over his loneliness any day. Since he had no wand to unsilence them and no one to talk to, he’d enjoy the company of a good book. The sight of his old, leather wingback chair beckoned him when he entered the library. Before the war, he’d spent many an evening thumbing through tomes in that very seat. 

Just as he’d selected a book, the sound of the floo roared to life. Cissa would be overjoyed to stumble upon him reading like he used to. Maybe his wife would seduce him and take him right here in the library. The very thought excited him. He hoped the novelty of his return would last a very long time. 

“Cissy! We’re here!” a man yelled from down the hall, dousing Lucius’s fantasies.  _ Cissy? What man was calling his wife by a nickname?  _ Just as it had when he heard the Auror become too familiar with his wife, Lucius’s blood boiled at the thought of another wizard near her. His fingers crackled with magic, and he dropped the book to the floor before he ruined it. “It sounds to me like we’ll find her just down here?” the man said to a chorus of children’s giggles. Suddenly, Arthur bloody Weasley burst into the library with a couple of brats at his heels. The red-headed prat had his wand drawn before Lucius could blink, and the two rivals stared at one another for a long moment. Neither could understand why the other was there.

“Is this him, Grampy?” a young girl asked, moving from behind Arthur toward Lucius. With all that dirty-blond hair, she must be the child of the Veela one of the sons had married. 

“Yes, Cassie, but don’t get any closer. He’s dangerous,” Weasley warned as he eyed Lucius carefully. 

“No, he isn’t. Daddy said he’d be like a Muggle for a long time,” she answered, taking another bold step forward.

“ _ Me _ ? I am no Muggle, girl!” Lucius sneered. 

“To be fair, my daddy said  _ like  _ a Muggle. From what I understand, a wand won’t respond to  _ your _ touch just like they don’t respond to a  _ Muggle’s _ touch. So you see, in this way, you are  _ like  _ a Muggle,” the little swot explained slowly as if she was speaking to a child and not a small child herself. As she spoke, she walked closer to him, stopping just a few feet away.

“When my daddy said you were a monster, I thought he meant you’d be bigger than him, but he’s taller  _ and  _ stronger than you.” 

“Yes, well, the worst monsters are the ones you don’t see coming,” he said severely. “Whichever Weasley boy sired you highly underestimated what a Malfoy is capable of,” the wizard scowled, looking down his nose at the brazen child. The girl turned toward Arthur and giggled, but his enemy simply gaped back at him as if he was confused. Typical stupidity from the king of blood traitors. In a show of his dominance, Lucius made no move to stand, he just crossed his ankle over his knee and glared back. He only stood for those he respected.

“Because our Malfoy intelligence is our best defense!” the girl exclaimed happily, grinning widely in spite of the look of disgust Lucius gave her. Was this child mocking him? 

“What fresh new hell is this that I must suffer a pack of Weasleys in my home?” Lucius asked Arthur, completely ignoring the insolent girl. 

“You were to return on the fourteenth of this month. Why are you here now? Has Cissy told you nothing?”

“I should bloody well be asking you why _ you _ are here in  _ my  _ home, not the other way around,” Lucius seethed. How dare this inferior man question him, the Lord of the Manor! Ridiculous! 

“Please watch your tongue in front of the children!” Arthur said angrily, his hands in tight fists by his side and his face as red as his hair. 

“I will speak as I please. Of all places, what would make you think your half-breed grandchildren are welcome here? At least they escaped that dreadful red hair that seems to dominate your line,” Lucius said, waving his hand between the girl and the boy that hid behind Arthur’s legs. Watching the vein pop out of his rival’s forehead was worth every minute of this unwelcome encounter. Those Weasleys were well-known for their tempers after all. 

“My Rose has red hair, and I will not hear anyone speak ill of her or my family!” the little boy roared as he jumped out of his hiding place and stormed forward, standing next to his sister.

“ _ Draco? _ ” Lucius whispered as a young version of his son yelled at him. Was this real? What magic was this? __ “ _ Son? _ ”

“Grandfather, are you alright?” the little girl asked, but he couldn’t look away from his son. She wearily grabbed the boy’s hand and started to pull him back a few steps as if to protect him.   
“Malfoy, these are _your_ grandchildren, Scorpius and Cassiopeia,” Arthur said in that soothing tone kind people used with the people they helped. It had been some time since someone caught Lucius by surprise, but this was completely unexpected. Why had Cissa hidden these children from him? Unless--

“The girl called you  _ Grampy _ ,” the endearment sounded strange on his tongue. “My son married... _ your  _ daughter? These are their children?” 

“Daddy didn’t marry Aunt Ginny, silly!” the girl was giggling again. 

“Arthur, I beg you...Please help me understand. My wife and son have kept me in the dark these long years. Who is their mother?” Lucius pleaded. In the back of his mind, he registered a pop of apparition somewhere down the hall.

“Dad?” a deep voice called. That voice. It was familiar, though deeper than he remembered. “Molly said you were here with Scorp and Cassie.”

“In the library!” Arthur responded with a tight fist gripping his wand. Sure footsteps made their way to the doorway where Weasley stood. 

“There you are! Did Scorp want to read you a bunch of books today?” Draco’s chuckle stopped short when he followed the older wizard’s eyes to where Lucius sat tensely. His son was a man now. He was wearing Auror robes. How had that happened? It was odd to see him so sure of himself. “DON’T TOUCH THEM!” Draco shouted with a sharp wave of his wand. Suddenly a thick shield surrounded both of the children. 

“Hi, Daddy!” Cassie exclaimed as if nothing was amiss. “Can you let us out, please? I have the biggest hug for you!” she sang happily.

“Just a moment, darling,” Draco’s voice softened, offering a genuine smile to his daughter. Arthur stepped forward, placing a hand on the young Malfoy’s shoulder. Pure jealousy coursed through Lucius as he watched this exchange between his son and the Weasley prat. 

“Sorry, Son. We came for tea with Cissy and found  _ him _ here instead,” Arthur explained innocently. 

“Don’t you have enough children, Weasley? Now you seemed to have claimed my son too,” Lucius sneered, eyeing the pair of wizards in complete revulsion. Draco marched forward, and the elder Malfoy scrambled to his feet. 

“And what a wonderful father you’ve been,” the angry blond growled, pressing his wand to Lucius’s throat. The boy had grown into an assertive man, no longer cowering to his father’s cold looks. He’d grown taller and broader too. He was intimidating. “Yes, you were quite the example when you sacrificed me to a madman when I was just a child! Or was your shining moment when you nearly lost everything while endangering Mother and me by throwing us to the wolves in our own home. Perhaps it was when I found out as a fourth-year that everyone else’s parents didn’t punish  _ them _ with the  Cruciatus Curse . Better yet, it was probably the constant reminders of what an utter disappointment I have always been to you,” he gritted each example out as if it were being dragged from him. Draco was breathing heavily now. At some point, he remembered himself and reached back toward the shield he’d conjured earlier, and it disappeared at his touch. The children flew to his side and hugged him even as he still held his wand defensively. His icy demeanor melted slightly at their touch and his breathing steadied as if he gained control just for the sake of these two little people.

“Quit being dramatic, Draco. You know I did what I had to do to keep us alive during the war. We would have been killed if we’d gone into hiding,” Lucius scoffed. 

“ _ Hiding _ ? What about doing the right thing?” 

“The right thing to do is to fulfill the obligations to your family. During the war, I kept you alive and that was the best I could do.”

“Well, your best isn’t good enough, Father!” Draco exploded. “You were a shite dad. The only thing I’ve ever learned from you is that I never want  _ my _ children to feel as unloved as I did.” 

“That’s not true, Daddy,” Cassie said sweetly, her large brown eyes twinkling. “You told Mummy that the only thing your father ever taught you was how to properly deflower a woman, and she scolded you for saying that in front of Scorp and me,” the girl recalled innocently. With a slight blush, Draco choked on her explanation. Lucius smiled when he pictured his son at thirteen, wrinkling his nose in shock when the older Malfoy had explained sex to him. Cissa had forced Lucius to talk to the boy when she heard the scandalous stories coming out of the Slytherin dorms from the ladies in her garden club. “It’s okay. I already knew you were a naughty little boy,” the tiny witch continued. “You probably stole lots of girls’ flowers.” A ghost of a grin appeared on her grandfather’s face. With all her charm, Draco’s daughter was his weakness. 

“No, darling, just Mummy’s flower,” he smiled down at Cassie. “Oh, Merlin, please don’t tell her I said that!” he begged, realizing his mistake a little too late. Arthur’s uproar of laughter floated down the hall as he momentarily excused himself from the room. 

“I don’t think you’re really talking about flowers, Daddy,” Scorpius whispered loudly. “Do the flowers stand for something else?”

“That is very perceptive, Scorp,” Draco whispered to the boy, “but we will discuss it when you are older and not in mixed company.” The young wizard smiled and winked at his dad. With practiced ease, Scorpius jumped into Draco’s free arm and hugged his dad tightly around the neck. It all seemed so natural yet foreign to Lucius. He’d never permitted his son to be overly affectionate with him like that because he thought it would make Draco too weak. 

“You may lower your wand, Son. Why would I want to hurt two Malfoy heirs?” the elder Malfoy asked in hopes that his soothing tone would relax Draco’s hostility, but his words seemed to have the opposite effect. “What is it you think I would do? I have no wand,” he reminded him. 

“Excuse me, Daddy,” Cassie interrupted politely.

“What is it, princess?” Draco asked in the gentle tone Lucius noticed his son used when speaking to her. 

“Do you know you make the same grumpy face as Grandfather when you are upset?” she asked sweetly. He glanced down at the girl with a small smile. Apparently, the children were aware of who Lucius was to them. This was the second time the girl had referred to him as Grandfather instead of the silly name she called Arthur. It warmed his cold heart that this girl already knew him. She was enchanting, and he could easily see himself being tied around her little finger. 

“So I’ve been told.”

“Though I agree with Grammy Molly about you being more handsome than him,” she whispered loudly behind her hand. “You smile more.” Draco beamed at his daughter, and she hugged his leg tightly in return. 

Another burst from the floo alerted them to an additional guest. Footsteps pounded the wooden floors and the newcomer frantically called Draco’s name. 

“In the library!” Arthur yelled from a spot much closer to the Malfoy men than he’d been standing before. Lucius hadn’t even noticed his approach. Movement in the doorway caught his attention as Harry Potter himself jogged into the room, his dark Auror robes billowing in his wake. 

“Everything alright, mate? Your wife felt your surge of anger and sent me straight away.” 

“Uncle Harry!” Cassie beamed, throwing her arms around Potter’s legs as he hugged her with one arm. “Is my James with you?” she asked hopefully. Draco and Harry exchanged an irritated look that Lucius didn’t understand.

“Sorry, Cass. Not this time,” he answered, ruffling the girl’s curls. “Malfoy, is there a reason we have your dad cornered like a caged dragon?”

“Did you know he was released early?” Draco questioned in response. 

“No, of course not. We planned to escort him together on the fourteenth.” 

“Dad, can you please take the twins back to the Burrow?” Draco asked Arthur. Oh, how it rankled Lucius to hear his only child address Weasley that way.  _ Wait, did he say twins?  _ “I can’t have them here with him yet” 

“Of course. Both of you come by when you’re done here,” he patted the two Aurors on the shoulder before reaching out to the children. Scorpius seemed apprehensive about leaving his father, peering back at him every few steps with a furrow in his brow. Cassie, however, skipped and twirled herself around while she held Arthur’s hand as they walked away. “I’ll owl Hermione, so she doesn’t worry!” the Weasley patriarch called behind him from down the hall. Harry shot Draco a concerned glance, and the two wizards turned to Lucius expectantly.

“Miss  _ Granger _ ? Once you found yourself a proper wife, you should have cast off the Mudblood,” Lucius snorted just before he found himself on the ground silenced and in a full body bind curse. Had he not seen the rage in his son’s eyes as he stood over the elder Malfoy’s prone form, Lucius would have assumed Potter had been the one to curse him. The realization stung once he realized that this could only mean one thing. Draco had completely neglected his only duty of producing a pureblood Malfoy heir. A burst of magic erupted all around him, and both Aurors jumped out of the way. Darkness took him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering, think of Lucius's magic like accidental magic in children. Though I am toying with what wandless spells Lucius might know, he is still weak from Azkaban at this point. As for Scorpius, Cassie, and Orion, know that they are extremely advanced for their age.
> 
> Do you all want to read love scenes between Lucius and Narcissa? I have some ideas for them, but I wasn't sure if most of us were here just for the Dramione passion. Let me know what you want!


	4. Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the feedback and comments from the last chapter. I appreciate readers' input while I am writing.

**Chapter 4: Explanation - January 6, 2008**

“You have to calm down, mate. It’s not good for the baby when you are this angry,” Harry advised Draco as they stood in the library staring at Lucius lying on the floor. The blond nodded. It had been so long since he needed to gain control of his emotions that it was difficult. “Hermione said she’d be here as soon as she is finished in court.”

“No! I won’t have her or my children around him until I am sure he won’t hurt them!” Draco exclaimed. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. “We  _ knew _ he’d react this way, but a small piece of me wanted him to just accept it once he’d met the kids...Maybe I wasn’t good enough as a child, but how could they not be? How could he not love them instantly?” the blond questioned as he toed his father’s stirring form. All of a sudden, Lucius gasped for air, his eyes bursting open. Harry and Draco stood over him with their wands at the ready.

“Are you quite finished with your little tantrum, Mr. Malfoy?” the dark-haired wizard asked condescendingly. Lucius glared at him and tried to say something, but he was still silenced. “If you’d like to be able to speak again, there will be rules,” Harry informed him. The older wizard stood up angrily, ready to spit daggers. 

“First, you may not refer to my  _ wife _ as a Mudblood,” Draco spat the slur in disgust. It had been many years since he used the filthy word. “Second, if you plan on convincing me to find a pure-blood mistress to make an heir, I will not hesitate to send you back to Azkaban immediately. Third, I am not interested in hearing about the duty you feel I have abandoned or about your precious pure-blooded line. It ends with me. Finally, you will take an unbreakable vow that you will not attempt to harm my wife or children in any way, including seeking assistance from others,” the younger Malfoy ticked off each of his conditions on his fingers standing inches from his father’s reddening face. “Do I make myself clear,  _ Father _ ?” Though he hated that it had come to this, Draco loved how much it irritated his father that he had to tilt his head back to look into his son’s eyes. If only he had this height advantage over him years ago, it would have been easier to refuse his commands. After Lucius stood there with his jaw clenched weighing his options for a few moments, he finally gave a terse nod in agreement. 

“Any other demands for the head of household?” the older Malfoy fumed. 

“You’d do well to remember your place, old man,” Draco said menacingly, stabbing his wand between his father’s eyes. “ _ I _ am Lord of this Manor and the entirety of the Malfoy fortune.  _ You  _ are only here because of  _ my _ benevolence. Without me, you have nothing. Should my mother decide she no longer requires your presence, you will be gone without a second thought,” he promised. Lucius flared his nostrils and swallowed a deep breath. He was trapped and there was nothing he could do about it. 

“Well, I hope this reunion was everything you hoped it would be. Power suits you, Draco. You’ll be exactly like me in no time at all.”

“I am  _ nothing  _ like you! Take notice of the way I am _ preventing _ my children from being harmed by a madman, whereas you laid down like a rug and handed your only child over without even a fight. If standing up to your dark ideologies is power, then let me be powerful,” he snarled, spreading his arms wide with his palms facing up to the ceiling. The abrupt pop of apparition startled all three wizards, and Draco let his wand arm drop to his side. Narcissa was home. 

“You should probably know that she adores all of her grandchildren,” Harry whispered to Lucius. “Hermione fought to free you, but Cissy is the only one who actually wants you here and part of all of our lives.” 

“Please don’t start to take him under your wing, Potter,” Draco said annoyed as he rolled his eyes.

“I took  _ you  _ under my wing and just look at how good you turned out to be,” Harry smiled and gave the blond a small shove.

“Bloody Gryffindors,” both Malfoys said at the same time, shaking their heads back and forth, Draco with mirth and Lucius with disdain. They glared at one another for a moment before simultaneously folding their arms across their chests. 

“Was that choreographed? Do you think we could teach Scorp and Ori to do it too, and we’ll have all four of you do it at once?” Potter laughed as he lightly punched Draco’s arm. “It’ll be three generations of Malfoy arrogance!”

“You’re making me regret ever becoming friends with you, Potter.”

“Who is Ori?” Lucius wondered. “I thought the girl’s name was Cassie.”

“He’s my other son. He’ll be three in a few months.”

“Merlin, how many children do you have?”

“In June, it’ll be four,” Draco couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Lucius gaped at his son. Producing two Malfoy heirs was rare, but four was completely unheard of.

“Darling? Where are you?” Narcissa called.

“In the library, Mother,” Draco answered. They heard her draw a deep breath at the sound of her son’s voice. She clearly hadn’t expected to have this confrontation so soon after Lucius’s return. This was difficult for his mother. Over the years, she’d made many comments about her loneliness or grew teary-eyed whenever she spoke of his father. Of course, Hermione would be especially sensitive to Narcissa’s feelings. She immediately wanted to turn the world upside down to fulfill Mother’s wishes. He and his wife had fought about finding a way to free Lucius for months before his determined witch convinced him. In the end, he just wanted his mother to be happy. Draco refused to make it any harder for her when she so fully supported Hermione and him regardless of her old beliefs. When Narcissa walked into the room, he greeted her kindly and kissed her cheek, and Potter did the same. 

“Things must have gotten out of hand if you’re here, Harry,” Narcissa smiled wistfully at the dark-haired wizard, patting his cheek in a loving gesture. 

“Hardly. They were almost perfect gentlemen,” he replied without meeting her eyes. 

“Lying doesn’t suit you, Harry,” she chuckled before gliding over to her husband to greet him. “Judging by both of your scowls, I think it best to hold off on this long and uncomfortable conversation for a few days.”

“Wait, Mother. Father must take an unbreakable vow that he will not harm Hermione or the children. I won’t leave until it is done,” Draco insisted. Narcissa glanced at her husband, who refused to make eye contact with her. 

“I will take it in his stead.” 

“Cissa, no!” Lucius declared, reaching for her arm. “If you are gone, then I have nothing. Please.”

“All the more reason for you to keep _your_ family safe,” she hissed at him. “You might not like our son’s choices, but I _love_ my daughter-in-law and grandchildren. If you were to hurt them, you’d lose me either way,” Narcissa warned. Lucius looked to the floor, looking properly chastised. 

“Mother, please. If he fails, then we lose you too.”

“I know him, Draco, and it has to be this way. He would risk his own life for familial duties, but he won’t risk mine,” she said sadly. Narcissa was right, and they all knew it.

* * *

“By taking that vow, you’ve made it nearly impossible for me to fix this now,” Lucius complained once Harry and Draco had left. The couple had moved to the sitting room; Cissa deliberately sat on a sofa opposite of Lucius. He knew this would be a long night. How could his wife hide this from him for so long? This problem would have been taken care of by now if she’d been honest from the start. 

“There is nothing to  _ fix _ , Lucius,” she glared at him. Her tone surprised him. The wizard wasn’t used to his wife standing up to him. “You’ve done a great many abhorrent things that I’ve overlooked during the course of our marriage because I love you. This is different. Unforgivable. If you don’t learn to accept our son’s family, I can no longer stay married to you.”

“You’d choose those children over me, your own husband? You’d choose her, a Mudblood?” he snorted in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could she?

“Yes!” she yelled, balling her fists by her side. “My grandchildren have  _ my _ blood running through their veins too, and I love them more than anything else. They’re perfect. I wouldn’t trade them for any pure-blooded baby in the world,” she started to weep, holding her head in her hands and occasionally wiping away a stray tear. “Right now, I  _ hate _ myself for loving you. I  _ hate  _ doing this to my son,” she whispered with a shaky breath. It stung to hear her confess such a thing. “Hermione knew how much I longed for you, and right now, I wish I had turned her down when she offered to help. The only reason you are here is because of  _ her _ caring for  _ me _ and  _ my feelings _ . It was selfish to take advantage of her kindness,” Cissa shook her head in frustration. “More than anything else, I need you to go back to the man I fell in love with. The man who would Accio the moon if he thought it was what I desired. I need you to choose the living over the dead,” she said, sounding defeated. He could change. He  _ would  _ change for her. 

It was rare for Narcissa to cry. The mere sight of it startled Lucius. The last time he’d seen her like this was at his hearing after the war. Before that, it was when he informed her the Dark Lord would be making Malfoy Manor his headquarters. Only once had she nearly broken. He’d nearly lost her forever when she caught him punishing Draco using a modified  Cruciatus Curse. His reasoning for that method was far nobler than his son ever knew. Before Lord Voldemort’s return, Lucius could feel the dark wizard slowly gaining strength over the years of his disappearance. He remembered how hard the Dark Lord could be on his followers during the First Wizarding War. It seemed important at the time to build Draco’s tolerance to the unforgivable curse. Had he not, there was no way his heir would have survived the second war. It was hell to watch his son suffer through various forms of torture at the hands of other Death Eaters, but Lucius knew he’d trained the boy well over the years to endure the pain. Thinking back, he cursed the day he’d ever met Tom Riddle. 

_ It was 1976 when the Ministry really pushed for change among the pure-blood ranks. There had been talk of enacting marriage laws to prevent the lines from continuing to gain influence within the government. Though Narcissa and Lucius had already been married a couple of years, he wanted to secure power for his future heir. He often met with Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, and a few others at one of their old haunts in Knockturn Alley before it was considered taboo.  _

_ One evening in late July, Riddle approached the group and joined them in their complaints against the Ministry gaining too much authority. The charismatic man started to meet with them weekly, somehow gaining the respect and followership of the young wizards trying to make their mark on the world and save their family lines. He’d easily won over the impressionable twenty-somethings that trusted the heir of Salazar Slytherin himself. Riddle had promised to restore the old glory of pure-blood society. It all started out as a fight for rights to maintain their traditions, not the senseless reign of terror it had become.  _

_ By 1977, Lucius was in too deep. Lord Voldemort, as Riddle had insisted on being called, demanded loyalty. In the winter of that same year, the Dark Lord forced his Mark upon his followers. He’d started to make an example of those who didn’t seem to pull their weight for the cause. It was sickening. Lucius had never been so frightened of another wizard in his entire existence. By this time, Riddle had amassed a small army of Death Eaters. The Ministry only helped his numbers rise by passing new laws to control pure-bloods. With the Mark branded on each member, Voldemort could control them however he desired.  _

_ The raids began shortly after Death Eaters started being controlled by the Mark. Lucius wanted out. He hated the violence of it all. When he found out Cissa was pregnant at the end of 1979, it was too late to escape this lifestyle. He was trapped. The only way to protect his family at this point was for Lucius to rise to the top of the Death Eater ranks. He’d have moved heaven and earth to protect his growing family. If it meant sullying himself in the blood of others, he’d endure it.  _

_ It was such a gradual decline from displeasure with the Ministry to trying to take over the wizarding world to the eventual goal of eliminating Mudbloods from existence. Lucius hated who he’d become, but it was the only way. If he failed to please the Dark Lord, his line would end. As much as he hated it, he had to distance himself from his son in order to protect him. His Cissa was the only person left to live for in this life. She’d seen him through those dark years before Voldemort fell to Harry Potter.  _

“Life without you would be… _ empty _ ,” Lucius finally replied, shaking his head, unable to imagine a world without his wife’s love. “I don’t know how...What changed your mind about Ms. Granger?” he settled on the question, unsure of where to begin. So much had changed, and he wasn’t sure if he could make himself fit in this new life his family had built for themselves. Lucius had been this monster for so long, it was hard to remember the wizard he once was. 

“Accepting them together was hard for me at first,” Cissa admitted, wringing her hands together nervously. “I befriended her when she and Harry informed me they would speak for Draco at his trial. You were already sent away, and I couldn’t lose my son too. I would invite the two over sometimes, and we had passionate discussions over tea,” she smiled as she recalled the arguments they’d have about blood purity. “In spite of  _ everything _ , Hermione volunteered to sponsor him at Hogwarts. Since I wasn’t allowed to write Draco often, I instead wrote to her every week. At first, I only awaited news of my son, but she’s a bright witch, and I found I looked forward to hearing what she had to say. She was always so kind and thoughtful about my state of being. Sometime that October, she wrote to me to inform me of their budding relationship. I was angry at first, but she was my only contact with Draco and my only... _ friend _ , so I avoided the topic altogether thinking it was just a passing fancy.”

“Why didn’t you stop it right away?” 

“When he went back to that school, the other students hated him. If he wasn’t with her, he was attacked. I thought if I stopped it, he would have no protection.”

“At what point did you stop believing in blood-purity?” he asked curiously. 

“After I found out about their marriage from the clipping of the  _ Daily Prophet  _ you’d sent, I went right to the Headmistress’s office and demanded to see them. My anger completely dissipated when I saw them together. Their love is...indescribable. Draco  _ deserves _ to be loved that way. He’s lost so much in his life. As his mother, I should want what’s best for  _ him _ and not our dead relatives.”

“It doesn’t bother you that two of the oldest pure-blood lines end with him?” 

“The lines  _ don’t  _ end. We have three brilliant grandchildren and another on the way to carry on our family lines. Just wait until you meet Ori,” she said with pride. “None of the pure-blooded twits we thought of matching Draco with could have helped to produce that tiny genius. His abilities rival Dumbledore himself!” Cissa beamed as she spoke of a grandson Lucius had never met. 

“I don’t see how that is possible,” Lucius bristled, desperately trying to reconcile his old beliefs with this new reality.

“Why is that not possible? Dumbledore was only a half-blood and still became the most powerful wizard of our time. Keep searching, darling, and you will see that all of that nonsense doesn’t matter,” she explained. They sat in silence for a long time. 

“Tell me about them,” Lucius prompted. It was the right thing to say because Cissa brightened immediately at the request. It was hard to believe how much these three little people had already taken up most of the space in her heart. Craving her touch, he took the opportunity to move beside his wife.

“Of course, you met the twins today. They’re only five, but their level of intelligence is advanced beyond their years...I remember when I first held them, both looking so much like our son as an infant. When I hold Scorpius, I smother him in all the hugs and kisses I would have liked to give my little Draco so many years ago,” she admitted with a shy smile. Cissa’s confession shredded him inside. In Lucius’s effort to make his son stronger, he’d deprived his wife of a chance to show the boy how much he was truly loved. As a father, he thought he was doing what was best for the family, but hearing his wife’s nostalgia planted a seed of guilt within him. “Though his looks are all Malfoy, he has his mother’s astute acumen. He’s so inquisitive. We think he’ll be sorted into Ravenclaw even though his bravery sometimes comes through in occasional bursts,” she smirked as if she was remembering specific instances of his boldness.

“Yes, I saw his little spark of courage today. He scolded me for speaking ill of that dreadful Weasley hair. He’d been hiding behind Arthur at first, and I thought I was delusional when I thought he was a young Draco charging me like a bull,” he chuckled. 

“You’ll find him to be fiercely protective of those he  _ loves _ ,” she emphasized the word in a way Lucius didn’t quite understand. “He may not be as outgoing as Cassie, but he is twice as perceptive.”

“That’s hard to believe. Her innocent observations caused Draco to blush twice during our  _ reunion _ . It was quite interesting to see him challenge me with no fear but a few words from his daughter, and the man crumbles to his knees for her.”

“Ah, yes, she is certainly a daddy’s girl. You must be careful what you say around her because she’ll unintentionally repeat what she heard at the most inopportune times,” Cissa laughed at her little granddaughter's candor. 

“How did she know who I was?” he wondered.

“I’m afraid I speak of you quite often even though it drives Draco mad. Of course, his happy memories of you are more limited than mine,” she said sadly. Lucius reached for Cissa’s hand and squeezed.

“You know he thinks I never loved him? He even calls Arthur Weasley ‘Dad’ as if I never existed,” Lucius confessed. Nothing could be further from the truth. It was  _ because _ he loved Draco that Lucius had done all those terrible things. 

“You must understand how starved our boy was for affection. The first time Hermione brought him to the Weasley’s for Christmas, they welcomed him with open arms. Have you any idea of the guilt I felt when Draco admitted that he hadn’t been hugged by either of us since he was a small boy,” she choked. Guilt. Yes, Lucius was quite familiar with the word. It was the weight he always carried. While he had Cissa to get him through all those difficult years, Draco essentially had no one. They’d spoiled the boy because of the guilt as if all the trinkets in the world could replace a parent’s love. “He couldn’t believe after all that had happened with the war and the Malfoy/Weasley feud, they immediately treated him as part of the family. You’ll see they are extremely accepting and hug practically all of the time. Arthur wears his heart on his sleeve and loves passionately. Even Blaise and Pansy call him dad,” she explained while stroking her fingers through Lucius’s hair. 

“All those bloody Gryffindors allow so many snakes in their lion’s den?” Lucius laughed at his own joke. Cissa smiled at him. 

“I suppose we are gaining on them now. We’ll have our own Quidditch team before long.”

“Have the children started to learn to fly yet?” he asked, distracted by her offhand comment. There were so many things he didn’t know about them, it was hard to decide on which questions to ask.

“Actually, Draco and Harry coach a youth Quidditch team. They all look so adorable on their training brooms. Cassie shows promise as a chaser. The girl fears nothing,” Cissa said proudly. “Of course, Scorpius is very focused and makes a wonderful keeper. They’re so competitive. We’re lucky they’re on the same team for now. One can only hope they’ll be sorted into the same house when they go off to Hogwarts. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve had to heal their injuries when the backyard games get out of hand,” she explained animatedly. Lucius had never seen his wife so happy and full of life. It made him want to be part of it all. 

At the same time, he felt completely betrayed by his wife and son. It was hard to reconcile both the desire to play the doting grandfather and the rage he felt that his pure-blooded legacy would end with Draco. Part of him felt upset with Cissa for losing sight of the importance of blood-purity. How could she not care that their son had turned his back on the ancient lines of both Malfoy and Black? How was it possible that his son was soul-bound to a Mudblood? Maybe he could learn to accept his inferior match if Draco found a way to produce a pure-blood heir. The boy clearly loved his children, surely he’d still love a bastard son too. Would that be so wrong? He peered down at his wife, who had rested her head on his chest now, wondering if he should bring it up to her...Probably not. 

“Tell me about Ori. What is he like?”

“Out of the three of them, he is the most exceptional. Of course, he looks like Draco too but with curls. You must be careful around him because he has already mastered using a wandless silencing charm on-”

“Pardon me, but that is not possible. This child is only two?” Lucius cut in. 

“Yes, just two. I assure you, it is very possible. He silences his siblings all the time when they argue,” she laughed. “Above all else, you mustn't upset him. Even with all his brilliance, he is still only a toddler.”

“Maybe I should stay away from him. You seem to be the only person I make happy, and I seem to bollocks that up half the time.”

“It’ll take time, Lucius, but you are just as much a part of this family as anyone,” Cissa said sadly. “We’re free of all the old rules that bound us before, and this is our second chance. We weren’t good parents to Draco, but we can be the best grandparents to his children. Because I spend every moment I am with them making sure they know how much I love them, my relationship with Draco is better. And even though he’s a grown man with a family of his own, he lets me make up for all the hugs I wasn’t allowed to give him as a boy.” 

After a while, Cissa had drifted off. Ever so gently, he carried her up to their bed and watched her sleep peacefully for a few minutes. It was no wonder why all the portraits had been silenced: they wouldn’t approve of how thoroughly his wife had changed. Merlin, he loved this woman. He would have to adapt to these changes or lose her forever. Even the thought was unbearable. 

That night he tossed and turned before falling into a deep sleep. When he woke in the morning, he held on tightly to the reminisce of a dream he’d had of a little girl with long, blond curls dancing and twirling around his finger as she laughed and squealed. Lucius couldn’t be sure, but he felt himself smiling too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, you are starting to see that Lucius isn't quite as evil as we thought. I didn't grow up in a bigoted household, so I am trying to write it from the perspective of a 54-year-old man who spent his whole life learning the importance of blood purity and continuing the family line just to find his son married to the very type of person he was taught to hate. We didn't exactly see Narcissa's transformation in the last story, but this chapter shows that it took her some time to get over it too. From secondhand experience, I have met racist people who end up having a biracial grandchild and learn to overcome their learned prejudice. In the end, I think that once Lucius forms a relationship with the grandkids, acceptance won't be such a tough hurdle to get over. He has a long way to go, but I think he can manage. (Plus, you know I love a lot of fluff!)
> 
> I've had a handful of people tell me that it would be OOC for Hermione to try and help Lucius out of Azkaban, but I think it would be tough for her to watch Narcissa be so lonely and missing her husband for all those years. Some people have also said some disparaging comments about Narcissa loving a guy like Lucius, but a lot of people overlook many flaws for the ones they love. Also, she knows the man he once was before he fell in with Voldy. I do understand that people feel that way, and I'm not downplaying your feelings on the subject. I am simply explaining my take on the situation.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and please continue to leave feedback on the story!


	5. Being Grandfather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter; I didn't have a ton of time to write this week. I hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 5: Being Grandfather - January 10, 2008**

It had taken Draco a few days to calm himself down enough to meet with his father a second time. Against his better judgment, Hermione had insisted on accompanying him to the Manor for this discussion. The blond paced the length of the sitting room while he waited for her to return from dropping the kids off with Harry and Ginny for the night. According to Mother, Lucius was quite taken with Scorpius and Cassie and was desperate to meet Ori after hearing how special he is. Apparently, the older Malfoy wanted to have a relationship with them. How could he let his father influence his children when the man couldn’t even accept his wife? 

“I’m back,” Hermione announced as she stepped out of the floo, reaching her hands out toward Draco. He crossed the room immediately to take her in his arms. For as difficult as this was for him, it had to be worse for his wife though she’d never admit it. On one hand, he was lucky she was so forgiving, or else they’d have never found one another, but on the other hand, her blind faith in people could prove to be dangerous when it came to Lucius. 

“We’re only going to hear what he has to say. If you aren’t comfortable, we will leave immediately, and Mother will just have to accept that she’ll have to see the children without him,” he said soothingly, staring deeply into her eyes and stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. Since Draco knew his wife’s sense of obligation to his mother, he didn’t want her to agree to anything because she thought they had some sort of duty to include his father in their lives. 

“Your mum makes it sound like your dad has turned over a new leaf, so let’s hope for the best, shall we?” she said with an apprehensive smile.

“You’re too optimistic,” he teased, kissing her on the forehead and apparating them to Malfoy Manor. As they landed in the drawing room, Hermione lovingly embraced Draco and pressed her calming magic into him. “Thank you. I needed that,” he whispered. leaning his forehead down to hers. 

“Please try to control your temper today. We expect him to say nasty things and probably call me a Mudblood a few times,” she warned him. Hearing her say the vile word made him cringe, but she waved it off like it meant nothing. “Just ignore it. Your anger was so strong when you saw him last, I could hardly concentrate at work when I felt it crash over me. We want this little one to feel as much love as the rest of our children,” she said, placing Draco’s hand on her hardly-visible baby bump. He caressed her belly and kissed her adoringly. Magic passed back and forth between the couple in a parade of light and love. They broke apart at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Pardon me for interrupting,” Lucius said from one of the loveseats while he watched them curiously. Draco stepped in front of Hermione with his wand raised protectively, trying to shield her from whatever his father might do or say. “I suppose you didn’t see me here when you arrived, but my intention today isn’t to be rude to you, Ms. Granger.”

“Malfoy,” Draco corrected. “Her name has been Mrs. Hermione _Malfoy_ since I made her my wife nine years ago,” he said with malice. 

“My apologies. It was an honest mistake,” Lucius answered with his hands raised in the air before him in surrender. 

“It’s quite alright,” Hermione chimed in, attempting to diffuse the tension. “Even Draco still calls me Granger sometimes,” she admitted as she stepped around her husband’s protective stance and gently pushed his wand arm down by his side. “You may call me Hermione if it is easier for you,” she offered, trying to be accommodating. Draco wished he had some of her Gryffindor ability to see the goodness in everyone. All he could think about was what game his father was playing. He’d taken a regretful demeanor, which made the younger Malfoy suspect the man was trying to make them trust him before he revealed his true malicious objective.

“What exactly _are_ your intentions today, Father? If not to be rude to me and my wife, what is it you’d like to discuss?” Draco asked directly. He didn’t want to play his father’s games. Lucius eyed his son with pressed lips. It was obvious how much his father wanted to scold him for his blatant disrespect, but Draco couldn’t care less about his manners when it came to this wizard. 

“Please,...I just…,” Lucius stammered uncharacteristically. He took a deep breath and started again. “Would you both please join me in the sitting area?” he asked through pleading eyes, motioning toward the sofa opposite him. It was the first time Draco ever heard his father say the word, please, to him. Normally, every word out of his mouth was a command or a correction. Hermione grabbed Draco’s hand and started to walk forward, but he hesitated. Was this a trick of some sort? “I know it means nothing to you, but I give you my word that I have no ill intentions toward you or Hermione.”

“Please, Draco. After all, this is why we’re here.,” the curly-haired witch turned and whispered. He didn’t trust his father, but he _did_ trust his wife. This time, he followed her and they sat down together. It was then that Narcissa swept into the room, greeting her son and daughter-in-law with loving hugs and kisses. 

“I’m so glad you’re both here,” the Malfoy matriarch said as she sat beside Lucius, who threw his arm around his wife while she placed her hand on his knee. The sight of his parents connected in such a way was foreign to Draco. He couldn’t stop staring at the easy way they sat together. His father hated overt displays of affection. It was only when Lucius started to speak that Draco could tear his eyes away.

“Obviously, your marriage was not what I hoped for or expected when I came home, but I am... _trying_ to find a way to accept it. I will not pretend that it doesn’t bother me. I don’t know how to swallow my disappointment in the status of your blood, Ms. Gra-, Hermione,” the older Malfoy admitted uncomfortably. Narcissa signed deeply, her eyes dropping to the ground in disappointment. 

“How gracious of you, Father. Shall we notify _The Profit_ of your revelation,” Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“You’ve developed quite the penchant for sarcasm and disrespect over the years, and I don’t care for it at all,” Lucius sneered, reminding Draco of all the times his father used this particular tone while reprimanding him. The younger Malfoy leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I’m afraid I don’t give a damn what you care for. We came here because Mother led us to believe you were going to make an attempt to change, but the first words out of your mouth are the same drivel about your intolerance and your disappointment in me that I’ve listened to my whole life,” Draco spat in exasperation. Unconsciously, Hermione began stroking Draco’s arm in the place his Dark Mark used to be. Lucius’s eyes tracked the movement before his eyes bulged, staring at his son’s unblemished forearm. His father rubbed at his own skin that was still marred by the hideous Mark. 

“Where did…? But... _how_?” Lucius sputtered, his eyes still glued to Draco’s arm. Once Narcissa realized the reason for the sudden change in Lucius’s demeanor, she squeezed his knee soothingly. Unexpectedly, his grey orbs brimmed with years of repressed emotions, and all Draco and Hermione could do was gape at the sight of Lucius Malfoy’s remorse written deeply in the lines of his face. 

“It disappeared the night we -er,... _completed_ our bond,” Draco said, eyeing his father cautiously. Magic sparked from the older wizard’s fingers causing Narcissa to jump and Draco to shield his wife. The anguish in Lucius’s eyes hit Draco like a brick.

“You are responsible for the disappearance of his Mark?” Lucius asked Hermione in disbelief. She offered him a single nod. 

“I never wanted it in the first place and am relieved that I no longer have the constant reminder of the worst time in my life!” Draco shouted. 

“You...you think I _wanted_ this?” the older Malfoy rasped as he held up his tainted arm. He stood abruptly and began pacing. “You think I wasn’t proud of you? That I didn’t _love_ you?” Lucius shouted at his son. Draco was paralyzed by this display of emotions. This wasn’t the cold man who raised him but instead a wizard capable of feelings. “Everything I did was _because_ I love you!” Lucius yelled desperately, halting his pacing and looking right at his son. He’d never said those words to Draco. They met eyes briefly before quickly looking away. It was awkward and beautiful at the same time. This moment was something the young blond had yearned for his whole life but didn’t know how to handle it now that it was happening. 

“Lucius, darling…,” Narcissa slowly walked toward him trying to assuage his sudden outburst. 

“No, Cissa. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand…please... just let me explain...” he begged his wife. Looking back and forth between both of his parents, Draco searched for answers. He cautiously stepped forward.

“I’m listening, Father?” he said as Lucius’s face brightened. The chance to finally confess everything to his son was more than he could ever hope for. 

“From the moment you were born, I had to protect you. You were just a year old when the Dark Lord fell to Potter the first time, but I knew he wasn’t truly gone. I could still feel him...here,” Lucius said, pointing to his Mark. “I could never raise you the way I would have liked, the way my father raised me. I thought if I could make you tough enough to resist him, then I could live with myself...that it would be worth the torture of everything I had to do to make you that way. You had to be strong, obedient, and cunning to survive when Lord Voldemort returned. Every day I died just a little more inside so that you could... _live_...so that you could withstand anything that his darkened mind could possibly conjure,” he revealed, breathing heavily. Unburdening himself was taking a toll on the older wizard. “All those things you accomplished in your life, and I couldn’t even show you how proud I was...Merlin, Draco, you were second in your entire class; I didn’t even come in second within my own House! If I’d let you think for just a moment that you were good enough, then you’d give up trying to earn my respect, and I needed you to continue trying to be the best. You’d have to be to deal with the Dark Lord…”

The silence was deafening. No one knew how to respond to Lucius’s confession. It was too much for Draco to take in all at once, and he needed time to process everything. Somehow, his wife knew exactly what he needed and was there to hold his hand, a reminder that she was there for him. 

“I’m not blind, Draco. I see how much your wife has done for this family,” Lucius started again, looking to the curly-haired witch. “Ms. Gra-, Hermione, there are no words to express my gratitude to you for the countless ways you’ve saved us. You are truly a better person than I’ve ever given you credit for,” he said, unable to make eye contact with the remarkable witch. It went against everything he’d been raised to believe to humble himself to someone of her blood status, but he couldn’t ignore what a blessing she had been to his family. “Though I’m sure I’ll never quite meet the high standards Arthur Weasley has set as a doting grandfather, I do _want_ to change if you’ll only give me a chance,” he pleaded, finally able to look at the young couple. 

Hermione peered up at her husband with her questioning brown eyes, and he nodded. They didn’t need words to know they were in agreement. 

“Shall we bring the children over this Saturday?” Hermione asked. “We think it’s time they properly met their grandfather,” she announced, her hand grasped firmly with Draco’s. 

“Yes, of course!” Narcissa replied happily, springing into action. “Of course, I’ll plan something lovely,” she said as she hugged and kissed her son and daughter-in-law. Both men stood uncomfortably silent as their wives discussed the details.

* * *

Before long, Hermione apparated them both home and had drawn a bath for Draco in their expanded jetstream tub. Even as she undressed him and helped him into the water, the blond wizard was still lost in his father’s words. Everything he thought about their relationship had completely changed today. As the steam enveloped him, he imagined Lucius as a different kind of father. What would it be like to receive praise in the place of criticism? Would he have turned out much differently? If he was different, would he still be soul-bound to his wife? Having her was worth all the shite. He’d live through his cruel upbringing 100 times over if it meant he was still meant for her in the end. 

“How are you?” Hermione asked, popping her head through the bathroom door. Draco smiled at her when he saw she stepped in naked and held up a couple of chocolate frogs. 

“Better with you here...care to join me, Love?” he smirked at his wife. It was the first time they’d been alone in some time. She stepped into the tub behind him and immediately began rubbing the tight knots out of his shoulders. He groaned in satisfaction. Draco couldn’t decide if he wanted Hermione to keep working on his muscles or if he should make better use of their time in the bath. Once his witch pushed her thumbs deep into his lower back, he decided to let her finish massaging him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hermione asked as she was about to sit back in the tub, but Draco pulled her to sit between his legs and lean against his chest. 

“My head hurts from thinking about everything,” he said, absently stroking his fingers across her belly. “I have so many questions. Is he manipulating us or is he being honest? Is it wrong that I want nothing more than to believe him?” 

“Of course it isn’t wrong to want him to be honest,” she assured him “We know he is capable of love by the way he treats your mother, so it is logical to believe that what he is saying is true. From my viewpoint, I see thousands of other ways he could have protected you, but I wasn’t under the duress of knowing that Voldemort would return and feeling the Mark grow stronger as he gained power. It’s easy to judge from the outside, and I really do hate how he treated you, but he seems to genuinely want to change,” Hermione reasoned. 

“I couldn’t believe he apologized and thanked you. Do you think he’ll ever get over being disappointed that we’re married?”

“Give it time, Draco. It is hard to unlearn a lifetime of brainwashing, but he’ll get there. He’ll have to if he truly wants a relationship with the children.”

* * *

**January 12, 2008**

Today was the day Lucius would have a chance to prove not only that he was capable of change but also that he did love his family. Aside from Draco, he’d never really been around children, so he was a little nervous about his reaction to his grandchildren and vice versa. Narcissa warned him that he shouldn’t be so strict and allow himself to just enjoy their company. Control was something that was difficult for him to give up, but it must be done. 

“Darling, please do stop pacing a path in my newly renovated floors,” Cissa said as she entered the room. “You have an opportunity to make amends with your son, and the only price is loving his kids the way you couldn’t show your love to him.”

“What if I don’t know how?”

“Don’t overthink it, Lucius. Just let it come naturally.” 

Suddenly, the crack of Apparition startled the couple as Draco appeared before them with Cassie perched on his shoulders and Scorpius wrapped tightly around his left leg. 

“Hermione will be along soon with Ori. She felt a little nauseous when she woke up this morning and would prefer to travel by floo,” Draco informed his parents while lifting his daughter off his shoulders and placing her on the ground. The girl had a huge grin aimed directly at Lucius.

“Do you like sweets, Grandfather?” Cassie asked, her excitement bursting from her small body as she produced a metal tin and jumped up and down. Lucius looked to his wife in disbelief.

“Yes, I do,” he answered the small girl nervously. He wasn’t expecting her to be so happy to see him. Cassie skipped across the space between them and grabbed Lucius’s hand, tugging him toward the coffee table in the sitting area of the drawing room. The beat of his heart sped slightly at her attention. Was he to follow her? Bewildered, he turned to Draco for permission or guidance, he wasn’t sure, and his son shrugged his shoulders with a small smile.

“Grammy Molly and I made cookies for you!” Cassie announced. “I helped, and we make the best cookies in the entire world,” she said proudly. When Lucius just stood by the sofa at first, she looked up at him with her pleading brown eyes and tugged at his hand to sit. 

“That’s...wonderful...thank you,” he sputtered like an idiot. Without warning, the girl climbed into his lap with her tin and made herself comfortable. He didn't know what to do. Was this normal? Narcissa and Draco were of no help to him since they seemed to be paralyzed by the baffling scene unfolding before them.   
“I helped too!” Scorpius exclaimed as he unlatched himself from his dad’s leg. He approached Lucius and his sister carefully and sat beside them. Cassie held the tin while her brother pulled the lid off in a synchronized move that seemed well-practiced, revealing a mix of both misshapen and perfectly round chocolate chip cookies. “The round ones are the ones I made,” the boy said with pride.

“You did a great job with your circles, Scorp!” Cassie happily complimented her brother. “My cookies are clouds and unicorns and this one is you,” she announced as she held up a blob of a cookie toward Lucius. He stared down at the baked goods unsure of how to react. 

“That looks just like him, Cass,” Draco chimed in, saving Lucius from disappointing the girl. “Is this part his hair?” he asked. Lucius looked where his son was pointing to a lump hanging off the blob. Should he be offended that this blob looked nothing like him or happy that the girl thought to make a cookie she seemed to believe looked like him? It was surprising she was thinking of him at all he supposed. 

“Thank you, Cassie,” Lucius said, his granddaughter’s name feeling strange on his tongue...and yet it felt like he somehow always knew her. 

“You’re welcome!” she beamed, hugging him tightly around the neck. The unexpected affection hit him like waves crashing into the cliffs of Moher, and he wanted nothing more than to drown in this little girl’s unconditional love. Without thought, he wrapped his arms around his granddaughter and placed a kiss on top of her curly head. Lucius could almost feel his heart expand to make room for this fierce little witch. With his eyes squeezed shut, he heard a sniffle behind him as Cissa rubbed his shoulder. The moment passed quickly, but it felt monumental. When he looked up, the forlorn expression on Draco’s face shredded him apart inside. In 27 years, Lucius had never hugged his son like this.

“Aren’t you going to try them?” Scorpius asked his grandfather curiously, completely unaware of the unspoken tension in the room. 

“On the sofa?” It hadn’t ever occurred to Lucius to eat anywhere other than a dining room until these past few days he’d spent with Cissa, but when he looked into the children’s eyes, he didn’t want to disappoint them. “Yes, of course. I’d be delighted to try them.”

Scorpius and Cassie watched with bated breath as he took a bite from each of their cookies and made a big show of how much he liked them. They really were decadent. It was kind of Molly Weasley to send the treats in spite of the older Malfoy’s dreadful past. 

Too soon, Cassie jumped off of Lucius’s lap to hand Draco one of her unicorn cookies, but Scorpius quickly took her place, asking his grandfather as many questions as he could think of about Quidditch. The boy especially liked to hear tales of his father playing the sport as a young wizard. 

“Uncle Harry tells that story differently than you,” Scorpius commented when Lucius regaled him with a tale about Draco’s first Quidditch match as the Slytherin Seeker. 

“Your father was the best flyer out there that day,” Lucius bragged with a smile as he remembered his son’s natural talent. “Of course, Potter would remember it differently since he had a stroke of luck and caught the Snitch.”

“You scolded me for over an hour when we lost that game,” Draco said perplexed. “I never wanted to play again but was too scared to tell you,” he admitted. The two wizards stared at one another with a lifetime of regrets between them. If it took the rest of his life, Lucius would work to make his boy see how much he truly cared for him even if he didn’t feel like he could show it. 

“I’m sorry I thought things had to be that way...I’ll try-” Lucius started to explain himself.

“Mummy!” Cassie shouted when she spotted Hermione standing in the doorway and ran toward her with Scorpius jumping up to greet his mum as well. Both the children wrapped their arms around their mother and the child she held in her arms. “Guess what?” Cassie asked excitedly. “Grandfather loved the cookies he made!” she exclaimed before her mum could guess anything. 

“That’s lovely, darling!” Hermione beamed, shooting Lucius a grateful smile. 

“Is this Orion?” the elder Malfoy inquired. The little boy perked up when he heard his name and watched Lucius with the wisdom of an old man. It was jarring to feel the heavy appraisal of such a small child. He couldn’t look away from his grandson, who did in fact look like a curly-haired version of a young Draco. Finally, the toddler reached out his hands toward Lucius as if he granted permission for his grandfather to approach. “May I...hold him?” he asked cautiously, looking to Hermione for guidance.

“Ori, would you like to meet your grandfather?” she asked. The boy nodded and stretched his hands out further. Drawn in by the child’s penetrating stare, Lucius slowly crossed the room and reached for the child. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ori,” Lucius said nervously as he held him. The boy placed his hand on his grandfather’s cheek and a jolt of unrecognizable magic shot through the older wizard. Ori’s eyes were shut tightly as the magic worked its way throughout Lucius’s body, concentrated around his heart and mind. At last, the boy removed his small hand and tightly wrapped his arms around his grandfather’s neck. It was overwhelming. Lucius gasped for air as untapped emotions wildly coursed through him. He held onto his grandson, desperate for something. Of what, he didn’t know. To be better. He wasn’t sure. The adults in the room gaped at the scene in awe. 

“What did he just do to you, Father?” Draco wondered aloud.

“I don’t...I’m not sure.”

“Ori, sweetheart, can you tell Mummy what you did to Grandfather?” Hermione asked cautiously. He turned his stormy eyes to his mother with a sad kind of smile.

“Love make him clean, Mummy,” he replied in his innocent voice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there will be more Dramione scenes coming and we'll find out how Blaise and Luna are doing. As always, let me know what you think!


	6. Love in Many Forms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update. My daughter broke her collarbone, and I hardly had any time to write at all.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter. There is a small lemon scene between Draco and Hermione!

**Chapter 6: Love in Many Forms - January 18, 2008**

“You better watch your back, Potter, because I’m pretty sure Ori could beat you in a dual, and he doesn’t even have a wand yet!” Blaise yelled across their usual Friday night table at the Leaky Cauldron. 

“Fuck me, I better start being nicer to his dad!” Harry guffawed, slamming his firewhisky down on the table. Not nearly as pissed as his friends, Draco rolled his eyes at the two drunk wankers beside him.

“I don’t know why I even bother telling you gits anything,” the blond wizard said before downing the remainder of his drink. “My two-year-old son can do magic I’ve never even heard of which causes my father to have... _emotions_ , and all you two prats can do is laugh.”

“Oh, no! My son is too brilliant and I don’t know what to do!” Blaise mocked his best mate. “Let’s focus on my very _real_ problem of being nervous about a girl.” 

“You can start by drinking less of this,” Draco said, holding up the Italian wizard’s glass of brandy and swallowing the rest of it down. “You're starting to get sloppy like our Gryffindor friend over here,” he pointed to Harry. Suddenly, the dark-haired wizard started giggling like a child.

“Maybe your love can make _her_ clean!” Harry said suggestively as he burst out through a fit of laughter, wiping tears from his eyes and elbowing Blaise’s side. The Slytherin tried to suppress his smile before it was too much and he was giggling too. 

“That’s it, Potter, you’re cut off,” Draco proclaimed as he grabbed Harry’s firewhisky and polished it off. 

“Three drinks in less than the time it took me to walk from the door to our table, Malfoy. Not bad, mate!” George praised, pulling out a chair to sit down. 

“I do live to impress you, George,” Draco smirked. “Where the fuck have you been? You left me here practically all night to babysit these two wankers.” 

“To no one’s surprise except my wife, my little Fred is just as much of a prat as his namesake. The little guy took the floo by himself to come to see me at work today, and Angelina was pretty put out with _me_ about it,” George explained.

“How is that your fault?” Blaise wondered. 

“Because I didn’t punish him for doing ‘something dangerous’ or whatever. Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to tell the boy how proud I was of him for giving his mum the slip when he’s only seven,” he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s rather impressive really. My brother and I were nearly nine when we finally had bollocks enough to escape our mum...although I guess we really paid for that one,” he shivered at the memory of facing Molly’s anger as a child. 

“Weasley! Get over here, you red-faced tosser!” Blaise called across the bar just as Ron strolled through the entrance of the pub. The younger Weasley waved at them and signaled for the bartender to bring a round of drinks to their table. 

“Good evening, mates!” Ron greeted as he took a seat between his brother and Harry. “Merlin, Harry, you look good and pissed!” he said, looking at his best friend. The dark-haired wizard smiled lazily in return.

“I’m not telling you my secret, Ron,” Harry slurred. “Gin would kill me if I told you lot that she’s pregnant again,” he said as he tried to take a sip of an empty glass on the table before finding the new drink in front of him. All four wizards looked at him in shock. 

“When are you _allowed_ to tell us that Ginny is pregnant?” George inquired playfully. 

“She already told you?” Harry asked with his brow furrowed. “That’s a relief. I didn’t know how long I could keep it a secret,” he said, completely unaware of his mistake. The other wizards looked around at one another smiling and boomed with laughter though Blaise simply shook his head. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the Slytherin slammed his hand on the table. “Are you tossers trying to repopulate the entire wizarding world by yourselves?” he demanded, looking at each of his friends. They stared back at him, surprised by his sudden outburst.

“Everything okay, Zabini?” Draco asked gently. The Italian wizard let his eyes drift to the floor. “It’s just a hunch, but something tells me that your little tantrum has nothing to do with children _or_ this prat’s inability to keep a secret,” he smirked, pointing at Harry, who was too pissed to notice. 

“I apologize for my outburst, but the three of you got your wives up the duff _again_ , and I can’t even get Luna to go on a date with me. I’ve never dealt with competition before. That insufferable Rolf goes practically everywhere with us...If she were any other witch, I wouldn’t mind letting the man join in on the fun, but…,” he paused briefly and started massaging his temples. “...I don’t want to _share_ her,” he sighed. 

“Is this how you act when you don’t get laid for a few weeks?” George teased.

“As a matter of fact, it is exactly how I act when _you_ force me to give up sex for six months! _And_ I’ll have you know that I _love_ her,” Blaise said haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Don’t tell us. Tell _her_!” Harry announced loudly as he caught a second wind. “You should...you should...owl her...right now!” he suddenly rose from the table and ran to speak with the bartender. It didn’t matter that it was a busy Friday night because Harry Potter never had to wait in lines anymore. A moment later, the grinning, dark-haired wizard strolled back to the table holding up a piece of parchment and quill with five drinks floating behind him. The table erupted with cheers and laughter when he slammed his acquired items down in front of Blaise and passed out the round he’d bought for his friends.

“You can’t be serious, Potter,” the Italian wizard said as he looked around the table. George started giggling. “Why are you laughing, Weasley? You’re the one that said I should be friends and let her set the pace.”

“To be honest, I didn’t think you’d last this long on that plan,” George admitted. “Come on, mate, it’s time to tap into your inner Gryffindor and tell that witch exactly how you feel!” 

“I don’t have an inner Gryffindor, but I’ve been drinking liquid courage all night! What should I write, Malfoy? What sort of fancy words landed you the brightest witch?” Blaise asked excitedly. 

“I can’t help you write it because the point is that it has to come from you,” Draco answered with a smirk. “I can guarantee that the things I said to land my wife are going to be completely different than the right things you should say to Luna.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Don’t tell her Ginny is pregnant. It’s a secret,” Harry slurred. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Potter. You won’t find _me_ giving away your wife’s secrets. Whoever does that has to face her wrath,” he chuckled as Harry nodded in agreement. 

“Well, we know she is as direct as possible, so just jump straight to the point,” Ron suggested, taking a giant swig of his drink. Blaise nodded in agreement.

“Good. Now sit there and write your little love letter,” Draco joked. “And don’t talk to us until you’re done!”

“But you better read it aloud just to be sure you don’t fuck it up... _again_ ,” George warned with amusement. Blaise nodded in understanding and set to work.

After about a half an hour of concentration and ignoring the raucous around him, the Italian wizard slammed down the quill.

“Done!” he announced proudly and held up the parchment. George grabbed it out of his hands and scanned it.

“Good Godric, mate! It’s definitely direct!” he guffawed. “Read it aloud, Malfoy,” George said as he handed it to Draco. After skimming it, the blond began laughing hysterically. 

“Alright, alright, shut up, you gits! I’m going to read it to you,” he said loudly and began to read from the parchment.

_Mia Bellissima Luna,_

_No matter how hard I try, I can no longer be satisfied with just being your friend. You see, I am completely and irrevocably in love with you. It is shameful that it has taken me this long to figure out that you are the only witch I will ever want for the rest of my life. You are brilliant, beautiful, honest, kind, and have the ability to see beyond what most would never deem possible. None of my other conquests have ever intrigued me as you do, and my only wish is that I could have been deserving of your love previous to now. Please tell me I’m not too late._

_To be clear, I want_ _every part_ _of you. As soon as possible, I plan to make you my wife and start a family. Together, we can have the sort of love I never knew existed before you. I want to grow old with each other and find new things to love about you every single day for the rest of our lives. Please allow me to start by taking you on a proper date without Rolf or anyone else who wishes to steal your attention from me. No more games, just you and me. Let me prove that I am the only wizard for you._

_Ti amo tanto,_

_Blaise_

“I’m confused. Did you just fucking propose in that letter?” Ron wondered. 

“I suppose I did,” Blaise shrugged. “You gents told me to be direct, so I was.”

“It’s perfect. Send it!” Harry yelled over the crowd, startling a few patrons sitting closeby. And with that, the group of drunken wizards stormed out of the pub to find an owl.

Once they’d sent Blaise’s letter, Draco was desperate to be home with his wife. Even if he cherished his nights out with his friends, nothing was better than coming home to Hermione. Though some may think they’d married too young, they didn’t have any regrets. He couldn’t imagine going years without her like the Italian wizard had with Luna. Watching his best mate pine over his witch all night made the blond wizard all the more grateful for every moment he had with his wife. 

By the time Draco returned home, he found Hermione asleep on the couch with her muggle television playing loudly in the background. She was breathtaking. Riotous curls swirled around to frame her beautiful, relaxed face and draped over the arm she’d tucked under her head for a pillow. Draco reached for her slightly swollen stomach and rubbed light circles over the exposed skin. They were so delighted when they found out a few days prior that they’d be welcoming another son to their family. Kneeling beside his wife, he placed a light kiss on the small baby bump.

“Hello, little one. It’s your dad again” he whispered near his wife’s belly. “Mummy is sleeping, but I still want to make sure I tell you how much we love you already.” He didn’t see his wife smiling down at him while he spoke to their unborn son. 

“I missed you tonight, Draco,” Hermione said, momentarily startling the blond wizard. He looked up and grinned at her and kissed the baby bump one more time before rising to the sofa to sit beside her. 

“I missed you too, Love,” he told her while soothingly pressing his magic into her belly. “All I wanted to do was to come home to you.” Without warning, she pulled herself up and was straddling him.

“What will you do with me now that you’re here?” she asked seductively. Draco’s reaction to her was immediate, and she ground herself hard against him, eliciting a groan from deep within his throat. 

“Whatever you desire. Tell me what you want,” he whispered in the shell of her ear. Hermione shivered in response. She bit her lower lip in the way she did that drove him insane, and he apparated them to their bedroom. “Come on, Granger,” he purred. “I won’t touch you until you tell me exactly what you want.”

“I- want to...I want…” she trailed off for a moment. After all these years, she was still nervous to voice her desires aloud, and he loved it. “...to sit on your...face,” she said breathily. He grabbed her and kissed her hard until they were both breathing heavily. 

“Nothing would make me happier than to lick your sweet little cunt clean, Granger. Come here,” he said as he slowly began stripping her of her nightclothes, kissing and nibbling on every new spot of skin he uncovered. The witch melted into him as if every touch set her on fire. By the time she had her hands positioned on the headboard, and he slipped underneath her, she was panting and begging for him.

“Draco-, please...more,” Hermione moaned, bucking her hips against his eager tongue. The noises she made only spurred him on, and she fell apart above him within a few minutes. 

“How would you like me to take you now, love?” he rasped, ready to be inside of her. She moved down his body, staring at him with a glint in her eyes. “Tell me, Granger, or I’ll have to punish you,” he said suggestively. His witch flushed and looked away from him. Now he was intrigued. What could she possibly want that had her embarrassed? Draco reached up to her chin and turned Hermione’s face toward him. “Whatever it is, I already love it if it gets you this excited,” he told her gently. She smiled at him.

“I want you to…,” she turned away again, but he turned her back. “...bend me over the balcony…” she whispered. It took a moment for Draco’s heart to start again. His wife was asking him to fuck her over the balcony where any of their neighbors could see, though it was unlikely due to the late time of night. She’d never expressed any interest in public sex before, so they’d never done anything with an actual chance of being caught. 

“Fuck yes, woman!” he growled as he lifted her toward the balcony entrance in their room, kissing her deeply. She cast a warming and silencing charm as he placed her down and set her hands on the railing. Her arousal coated his fingers when he reached around to test her, and Draco couldn’t wait a minute longer. Pulling her hips toward him, he plunged deep inside her without preamble. They both moaned in pleasure. He took her hard and fast, making sure to take care of her again before he exploded inside of her. 

“Was that...weird?” she asked through quick breaths. 

“What? No, of course not. _That_ was fucking hot!” Draco hugged her tightly, placing kisses all the way up her back before turning her around in his arms. “Hopefully, you’ll finally let me take you in a library as I’ve always wanted,” he said as he wagged his eyebrows at her and she laughed. 

“You may just get your wish one day, Mr. Malfoy,” she whispered in his ear. Merlin, he loved this witch. Draco scooped his wife up in his arms and carried her to bed for another round of shagging. 

* * *

**January 19, 2008**

_Mr. Zabini,_

_My daughter and I were impressed by your wonderfully honest letter. It’s exactly what she’s been waiting for from you since the first moment you decided to pursue and/or toy with her. Before you take my Luna on a proper date, as you say, I would like to get to know you better myself. There is a secluded spot I like to visit deep within the Forest of Dean, and I would like you to accompany me on a camping trip there next weekend. If you truly love my daughter, you’ll make yourself available._

_Sincerely,_

_Xenophilius Lovegood_

* * *

_Zabini,_

_You’re fucked! That guy gave us up to Death Eaters during the war because he thought it would save Luna. Never underestimate the power of a father’s love and all that. My advice is to be completely honest about everything even if the truth is ugly. The Lovegoods can sniff out a lie from the most cunning of snakes, so I suggest you let him see everything you wish you could hide._

_Good luck returning with your bollocks,_

_-Harry_

* * *

_Zabini,_

_Even I’m scared of that guy! I’d be surprised if you come home with your bollocks!_

_-George_

* * *

_Blaise,_

_On the upside, perhaps he’ll write an article in_ The Quibbler _about how he maims you piece by piece! (Before you leave, please do inform my wife how absolutely supportive I was in my letter. She thinks I am too negative lately.)_

_Don’t allow that man to take your bollocks from you!_

_-Draco_

* * *

_Zabini,_

_If I can face Pancy’s mom, you can certainly face Luna’s dad. Quit being a scared little git and man up. If it makes you feel any better, he probably won’t murder you...though he may try to remove your bollocks._

_Best of luck, mate,_

_-Ron_

* * *

**January 27, 2008**

In the early morning hours just as the sun came up, Lucius stared down at his Mark. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that whatever magic little Ori had used on him was making the ghastly thing begin to fade. When Scorpius and Cassie hugged him, he felt like what he supposed was the normal love between a grandfather to his grandchildren. However, with Ori, it was something more. He could feel it deep within his magical core. It was somehow... _cleansing._ The small boy was remarkable. All three of the children were in their own way. In a million years, he would never guess that he’d be excited for his half-blood grandchildren to come to visit him, yet here he was anticipating every moment he spent in their company. 

Yesterday, Cissa had spent quite some time charming the back garden patio to stay warm in the winter weather because Cassie wished to have an outdoor picnic for lunch today. Spoiling their grandchildren was much different than spoiling their father as a child. With Draco, they’d given him _things_ , but with his children, they gave their _time._ The past couple of weeks were truly awakening because Lucius was always amazed at how much Cassie, Scorpius, and Ori valued acts of kindness and the time they all had together. 

“We have a few hours before they arrive, my love. Why are you awake so early?” Cissa yawned as she stirred in his arms, pushing herself closer to him. 

“Do you think Draco and Hermione would be too upset if we hired a dance instructor for Cassie?” Lucius wondered. Cissa turned to face him, giving him a lazy smile.

“I’ve been told that I’m not allowed to force anything on the children,” she answered with a knowing smirk. Lucius rolled his eyes. 

“She’d most likely enjoy dance lessons though,” he grumbled in frustration. “You’d think everything we ever taught Draco was terrible. What is wrong with providing a child with a few manners and decorum?” 

“I have no doubt you’ll find a way around their rule in this case, dear,” she said before drifting back to sleep. Lucius smiled to himself. His wife knew him too well. 

By the time Arthur arrived at the Manor to drop off the children, the house-elves had prepared a delectable picnic lunch. Though the food smelled delicious, Scorpius had to explain to his grandfather three times that a picnic meant eating on top of a blanket on the ground. Weasley’s incessant giggling at Lucius’s confusion only disappeared when the red-headed wizard stepped through the floo to return home. What did everyone have against eating at a proper dining table? 

Through lunch, the twins discussed every topic from their wizarding preschool class to their favorite books, constantly finishing one another’s sentences in a natural flow. Ori never left Lucius’s side during these visits, and today was no exception. He insisted on eating lunch in his grandfather’s lap. Though she said nothing, he could tell Cissa was slightly jealous since the small boy used to favor her over others. 

“Shall we take a stroll of the garden since your grandmother worked so hard to cast a long-lasting warming charm?” Lucius asked when they’d finished eating. His old bones couldn’t take another minute of sitting on the ground like an animal. Cassie jumped up and down with glee as if she’d just won the Triwizard Tournament while Ori climbed to sit on the older Malfoy’s shoulders. 

“May I read to Grandmother instead?” Scorp asked nervously, sounding every bit like his dad. 

“Of course, dear,” Narcissa answered. “Run along and retrieve your book, so we may cuddle on our picnic blanket,” she said with a smile. The boy grinned in return and ran inside as fast as his little feet would carry him. Lucius kissed his wife’s hand before allowing Cassie to drag him along the garden path. The little girl twirled herself in his fingers just as she had with Arthur and in his dream the first night he’d met her. He could feel his heart expand in his chest as she tried to explain what she remembered about the plants and how she might use them someday making potions. Though she made some minor mistakes, he was quite pleased by her knowledge. It was hard to believe she was only five. Cissa must have spent a lot of time explaining to the children the different herbology in her prized garden. 

Suddenly, Lucius felt a tapping on his head as Ori tried to get his attention. He pointed at the purple rosebush. 

“Yes, Ori, they are quite lovely,” he answered as they passed. 

“Back, pease,” Ori commanded in his sweet voice. 

“We’re almost back to the beginning,” Lucius answered, misunderstanding the boy.

“Poople rose...back,” Ori said again as he tried to turn his grandfather’s head. “It’s her favowite.” 

“She always says so,” Cassie said, as she skipped circles around the path. 

“Who’s favorite?” Lucius was confused. Without warning, Ori placed his chubby hand on Lucius’s temple, forcing an image to appear in his brain. It was of his younger self on one knee handing his wife a purple rose. He remembered that day well because his mother had thrown them a surprise anniversary party. Bellatrix had taken a photograph of this moment with the wizarding camera she’d given them as a present. Narcissa immediately hung it in their room, and it had been in that same spot ever since. 

“Get rose, pease,” Ori politely demanded. 

“Shall we both give her one, young man?” Lucius asked, still in disbelief of the magic Ori had just used on him. Was the boy a natural Legilimens or was this something different? He’d have to discuss it with Cissa later. 

“Boff!” he said excitedly. Without a wand, Lucius had to break the roses off the bush with his bare hands. He managed to obtain three purple roses and removed the thorns by rubbing them off on the bark of a nearby tree. Ori squealed with delight when he handed him a flower.

When they made it back to the picnic spot, Lucius let Ori down from his shoulders, and the boy pulled him toward Cissa. As the oldest and youngest Malfoy men each presented Narcissa with a freshly picked purple rose, Cassie happily danced in a circle around her grandmother and twin brother. 

“You are such a little gentleman, Ori. Thank you so much,” the older witch gushed. The little boy beamed with pride and hugged his grandmother tightly. 

“This one is for you, Cassie,” Lucius said, holding out the third rose for his granddaughter. She bowed like a princess and tucked the flower in her curls behind her ear. 

“Thank you, Grandfather. Now I look as lovely as Mummy and Grandmother!” the girl exclaimed. He picked her up and swung her in her arms while she burst with giggles.

“How would you like it if I taught you to dance properly?” Lucius asked. Cassie frowned in response.

“You don’t like my dancing?” she questioned as her eyes brimmed with tears. The blond wizard looked to his wife for help. That had not been what he was anticipating. 

“Of course, I _love_ your dancing, which is why I wanted to know if you wanted me to teach you _new_ dances…” he explained. Cassie looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Your daddy knows these dances too...and you could _surprise_ him,” he said. It was the right thing to say because she brightened immediately.

“Yes!” she screamed. “Daddy will be so proud of me!” she cheered, jumping up and down like she’d just won a prize. He couldn’t help but smile at her excitement.

And that was the day Cassie’s dance lessons began with Lucius as her instructor.

* * *

**January 28, 2008**

_Platinum-Headed Tosser,_

_I’m finally taking Luna on a proper date on Friday night!_

_Also, I made it home alive with my bollocks intact. I’m too tired to send any more owls, so please pass this good bit of news on to that lot of prats we call friends._

_-Blaise_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be Lucius becoming acquainted with the extended family (Weasleys and Potters), and we'll find out a little about what happened on Blaise's camping trip with Luna's dad.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think!


	7. A Time for Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update again! Life has been busy but will slow down a little once fall sports are over. Hopefully, I make it up to you since this update is over 6,000 words!
> 
> I decided to write a couple of scenes from Hermione's POV in this chapter, so be sure to let me know what you think. Would you like to see more from her?
> 
> For those wondering, a sledge is a sled. You'd probably be able to figure that out given the context, but I'll just say it here to be sure.
> 
> I've been trying to do my best at using British words/spelling when I can, but I couldn't bring myself to spell skeptical with a 'c' instead of a 'k'.

**Chapter 7: A Time for Family - February 2, 2008**

“Mummy! Daddy!” Scorpius yelled from the other side of the bedroom door, knocking furiously and causing Hermione and Draco to wake with a start. Having a lie-in with three young children was nearly impossible. “It snowed!” the boy announced happily. Few things made Scorpius Malfoy more excited than snow. To him, there was nothing like sledging down a huge hill. The last time they’d had a big snowstorm, Pop, Hermione’s dad, told him it was the closest thing that Muggles had to flying on a broom aside from skiing, which he’d promised to teach the children soon. 

“We’ll call Pop and Nan in a little while, Scorp,” Draco called with his eyes still closed and face buried in his wife’s hair as she lay on his chest. Next to him, Ori was curled into Draco’s side and beginning to stir. At some point during the night, the boy had crawled into his parent’s bed to snuggle. 

“Nan said I could help make hot chocolate on the next snow day!” Cassie cheered. The sound of the twins screaming and jumping up and down in the hallway filled the room, and Ori began to cry.

The noise they made immediately stopped as the youngest Malfoy cast a wandless silencing charm on his siblings. Hermione reached over to soothe her little boy, but he simply grabbed her hand into a hug, rolled to his side, and fell back asleep. 

“We can’t just leave them silenced out there all morning,” the curly-haired witch whispered, slowly releasing her youngest son’s hand. “I’ll get the twins ready for the day and call my parents if you want to stay in bed with Ori for awhile.”

“Let’s pawn them all off on someone tonight, so you and I can have a proper lie-in tomorrow,” Draco suggested with a smirk. Hermione stared down at him and considered his plan. “Your parents, the Weasleys, hell, even Blaise. I don’t care at this point.”

“Do you think you’d be comfortable leaving them with your parents overnight?” she wondered. He hadn’t expected the question. Lucius had only been free about a month, but even Draco had to admit he could see a change in his father. Surprisingly, the older wizard really did seem to love the children and want to spend time with them. He’d even noticed Cassie practicing the steps to that blasted Viennese waltz in her room when she thought nobody was watching her. She was quite good for a five-year-old. Clearly, Lucius was behind her learning to dance, but Draco kept it from his wife since his daughter seemed to be enjoying herself. It’d taken the blond wizard an entire year to learn that bloody dance as a child for one of the annual New Year’s Eve balls the Malfoys hosted. Lucius had forced him to continue his lessons at Hogwarts with a private instructor every Sunday of his third year to make sure he executed it properly at the event. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe we should consider the possibility,” he replied. “What do you think?”

“Well...I firmly believe that he _loves_ the children very much and wouldn’t hurt them,” she replied. “At the very least, he has been polite towards me, which is more than we hoped for at this point.”

“Let’s not discuss this now. I’m furious that we would even consider settling for basic cordialness,” he huffed. It killed him that his wife should be treated as anything less than a daughter by his father. The Grangers certainly treated Draco like the son they never had. Aside from their first awkward encounter, David Granger was one of the kindest people he’d ever met. Hermione nodded and kissed him quickly before slipping out of their bedroom door to take care of the twins. 

* * *

As she watched her husband and dad play with Scorpius, Cassie, and Ori in the snow, Hermione couldn’t help but smile. There was nothing sexier than a man who loved being with his children. They’d been playing in the snow for hours. She laughed when Ori hit Pop with a snowball, and he pretended to chase the little boy around the yard, Ori squealing and giggling while he hid behind Draco. The blond wizard conjured a dozen snowballs for Scorpius and Cassie to throw, and Pa finally raised his hands in defeat. 

“Are they headed inside yet?” Jean Granger asked her daughter with a knowing smile. She’d been baking cookies while Hermione sat on the couch with her feet up and watching her family have fun in the cold. 

“Honestly, I’m surprised they stayed out that long. Work has been taxing for Draco this last month. He’s been exhausted," she said, unsure if she should go into detail about the case that had her husband stumped. Over the years, he’d become the go-to Auror for what others believed to be unbreakable curses. He’d more than proven himself as an asset to the wizarding community with the level of his skill. Along with all of his tireless effort, he had truly changed what it meant to be a Malfoy just as he’d set out to do so many years ago. Hermione was so proud of him. Of course, he still had his moments of doubt as Scorpius and Cassie grew older and became curious about the many strangers who constantly thanked their mother in public but not their father. Sometimes the dread of having to tell the children about his seedy past consumed Draco. He knew the time to face everything he’d done back then would be coming sooner than later. The Malfoy children were much too observant to be kept in the dark for much longer. 

“I noticed he looks a bit tired. Is everything alright?” Jean wondered, bringing Hermione back from her deep thoughts. 

“Yes, he’s fine, but the job has been tough on him. He’s not used to working so hard to solve a case.”

“It must be terrible. Isn’t he considered the best of his kind?” Jean asked. Hermione couldn’t help the small surge of pride at the mention of her husband’s reputation. 

“It is terrible. Whatever dark wizard behind this case is cursing children. It’s so sad. Luckily, the two victims are undergoing treatment at St. Mungo’s and are expected to recover. but Draco is worried because the second victim is worse off than the first. He believes the culprit is just proving the power of his magic, and it’ll continue to worsen if they don’t catch the criminal soon. The pressure to solve these cases is high because he doesn't want the blood of children on his hands. The guilt plagues him,” Hermione explained, worrying her bottom lip. 

Suddenly, the door burst open, bringing with it a gust of chilled air and Hermione’s snow-covered family. Their faces were red from the cold, but their smiles were bright. 

“Let me help you out of your snow clothes, Cassie, so you can help me make the hot chocolate,” Jean said as she unwrapped her granddaughter from her pink and purple scarf, gloves, woolly hat, and parka. The little girl was jumping up and down as if her body couldn’t contain all of her excitement and she might burst. She prattled on about playing in the snow and how Daddy let her sledge all by herself once without his help. Hermione thought she looked as thrilled as her father the first time she’d taken him sledging. 

_It was the first Christmas they spent with the Weasleys, and Draco was relieved when Ron, George, Ginny, Blaise, and Angelina were as skeptical as he was when Harry and Hermione told them about their favorite Muggle pastime in the snow._

_“You want us to slide down that steep hill on nothing but a piece of wood fastened to two blades?” Ron questioned in disbelief._

_“How is that any less dangerous than riding a broom hundreds of feet above the ground?” Hermione countered._

_“You can control a broom with magic, Granger. What you're suggesting sounds like we should be fully stocked in Skele-Gro before we begin,” Draco argued as the others nodded in agreement. Hermione and Harry exchanged an exasperated look._

_“Why don’t we just show you?” the dark-haired wizard said, grabbing Hermione’s arm and apparating them to the top of the hill with the sledge they’d transfigured from a branch. As soon as Draco saw Hermione sit between Harry’s legs for them to ride down together, he apparated up with them and volunteered to take his former rival’s place._

_“It seems that jealousy brings out the real bravery in you, Malfoy,” Harry jeered._

_“Shut it, Potter. I don’t care. I’ll risk my life to keep my fiance from sitting between another wizard’s legs,” Draco sneered without any real malice. To calm him down, Hermione kissed him on the cheek, and the two friends explained to the pureblood wizard how to steer the sledge by leaning back and forth. “Alright, Potter, give us a push and get us going,” Draco said with a slight quiver to his voice._

_Even by Muggle standards, this hill was high, steep, and dangerous, but Hermione never revealed her own apprehension to Draco. They started off slow at first, and the blond wizard’s deathly grip on her relaxed slightly. His confidence didn’t last long._

_“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” he chanted as they began to pick up speed._

_Just as they neared the bottom, they hit a snow-covered log, causing them to sail through the air and land in a heap of limbs in a soft pile of snow. They were covered._

_“Are you alright?” Hermione asked once she realized she was fine except for the cold. At first, all she felt was the shaking. Her heart clenched in her chest when she thought Draco had been hurt, but when she turned to check on him, he was laughing. Tears were streaming down his face and he had to gasp for air several times. It was one of those deep, soundless laughs that took over your whole body. He’d never looked more striking than at that moment. Unburdened. Joyful. Free. Hermione couldn’t help but join him. By the time the others reached them, they were clutching one another in a fit of giggles._

_“I can’t believe that Slytherin git was braver than a group of Gryffindors!” George exclaimed. Something about this statement caused Draco to collapse into a fresh wave of laughter. The two of them laid there in the snow for a few minutes trying to control themselves._

_“I love you,” he declared, kissing her on the forehead. “There is no other witch in the world for whom I’d voluntarily climb onto a Muggle deathtrap in the snow without a warming charm.”_

It was one of her favorite memories with Draco. As it turned out, he’d make the sacrifice of climbing on a ‘Muggle deathtrap’ in the cold for his little witch and wizards just as he would for his wife. In spite of his upbringing, Draco Malfoy turned out to be a loving husband and father.

“Why didn’t you use a warming charm out there?” Hermione asked Draco when he sat beside her on the couch, teasing her neck and shoulders with his cold fingers on one hand and rubbing her growing belly with the other. 

“ _Your_ children wanted the ‘real Muggle experience’ while we were out there, so we all nearly froze to death,” he chuckled. “If they won’t let me spoil them with toys, then I certainly won’t deny them when they make darling requests like that,” he explained with a smirk, wagging his eyebrows when he caught her glancing at his full lips. She smacked him playfully when his mouth morphed into a full grin. 

“Don’t be arrogant,” she teased.

“It’s not arrogance to _know_ your wife thinks you’re devilishly handsome,” he whispered before placing a languid kiss just below her ear. Hermione squirmed in her seat, and he chuckled low, knowing the effect he had on her. 

“Well your wife doesn’t find it attractive when you act like a cocky little git,” she replied with a smile. Draco lowered his head toward her stomach.

“Do you hear that, son?” he said just high enough for Hermione to hear. “Your mummy is a bit of a liar. We both know she finds me to be especially irresistible when I’m acting like a cocky little git.” She smacked him again with mirth. “You see? She can’t keep her hands off of me.”

* * *

“I’m officially a changed man, gentleman. I’m in love!” Blaise declared, slamming his drink on their regular table at the Leaky Cauldron. He was grinning like an idiot. It was the first time Draco had seen his best friend truly happy.

“Ey’m right proud of yeh for finally gettin’ yeh’re head out o’ yehr arse,” Hagrid boomed as he raised his glass and clinked it with the group of friends. 

“Me too, Hagrid,” the Italian wizard admitted. “She’s the only witch to make my heart race and all we’ve done so far is kiss a few times.” 

“We didn’t come here to hear about your date with Luna, you raging tosser!” George yelled. “Tell us how you survived your camping trip with your bollocks intact!” The table of wizards burst into raucous laughter, causing other patrons to turn and glare at them. The wizards didn’t notice or care. No one would dare to kick the Chosen One out of their establishment.

“I cooked her a lovely dinner all by myself,” Blaise continued as if George hadn’t said anything. “Of course, I ruined it. Who knew you had to stir the pasta while it was boiling?” he shrugged his shoulders. “As I assumed, she appreciated the gesture. She even went so far as to eat it as if nothing was wrong. With all my faults, that witch accepts me for all that I am. In the end, we ordered takeout from a Muggle Thai restaurant instead.”

“No one cares that you’re shite at cooking!” Ron shouted, smiling wide. “Tell us about what happened with her dad!” 

“After dinner, I arranged an international Portkey to my villa in Italy where we walked the grounds in the moonlight,” Blaise went on, ignoring the jeering from his friends.   
“You mean your _mum’s_ villa?” Draco quipped, elbowing Harry in the side and they both chuckled quietly. 

“Quit interrupting, prat! I meant _my_ villa since it was my real father’s and he left it to _me_ in his will.”

“Stop holding out and tell us what we want to know!” Harry burst with a drunken giggle. It had been an especially difficult few weeks for the Auror department with what appeared to be the beginnings of a serial killer on the loose, so Harry and Draco needed these weekly drinks with the boys to stay sane. 

“Ey remember Xenophilius as a boy. A bit odd, tha’ one,” Hagrid commented off-handedly. 

“We talked about everything and nothing under the stars. It was perfect,” he smiled to himself.

“Stop boring us to tears, Blaise!” George complained loudly. 

“And that’s when I asked her to be my wife,” he revealed with a smirk. Silence. It was the first time in the history of their strange friendship that anyone had ever stunned the entire group into complete silence. “You can all congratulate me now. She said ‘yes’, of course.” 

“You’re serious?” Draco finally asked apprehensively. “After _one_ date, you’re absolutely sure?”

“It’s more than one date, isn’t it?” the Italian wizard replied. “It’s a thousand letters we’ve written back-and-forth over almost a decade; the time we’ve spent together throughout the years as friends and with all of you; the way I know there is no one else but her; it’s everything that has led us to this point. Now that I’ve finally come to my senses, I refuse to live another moment without her,” he said with conviction. 

“Well, -er, alright, mate,” Ron said with an apprehensive smile. “We’re happy for you!” he exclaimed as he stood up and motioned to the bartender for another round of drinks. The other wizards chimed in with their congratulations and claps on the back. 

“Not to ruin the moment,” George started, “but if you don’t tell us what happened on that camping trip, I’ll go to the Lovegood home right now and ask that crazy old man myself.” 

“Oh, that,” Blaise looked around abashedly. “He spent the first night explaining in great detail all the ways he’d torture me if I continued to play games with his daughter. I -er...well, I’ll be honest...I actually...pissed my pants when he woke me in the middle of the night with his wand to my throat,” he closed his eyes waiting for the laughter. 

“Did he _actually_ hex you?” Harry wondered. 

“No, but it was still scary as fuck! His eyes were mad like he’d do anything to save his daughter from me. I would ask what you would do if it happened to you, Potter, but you’ve probably actually woken up like that on more than one occasion and handled it exactly as we would expect from a Gryffindor,” he joked.

“What’d yeh do? Yeh must o’ gotten him to approve of yeh somehow,” Hagrid said thoughtfully. 

“I did what any resourceful Slytherin would do and shoved the ring I picked out for her in his face. Can you even imagine your lives without me if I hadn’t thought to bring the piece of jewelry that saved my bloody life?”

“You’d think the ring would make him even more upset,” Ron mumbled.

“I wasn’t sure what he’d do, but he teared up a bit and went back to sleep,” Blaise explained. “The next morning, he was treating me like a long lost son. He said he figured if I wasn’t serious about Luna, I’d have run off by morning. That trip was nothing short of bizarre.” 

“When exactly should I clear my schedule to be the best man for this wedding?” Draco asked.

“Now that we have to plan it around all of your bloody wives being pregnant, we decided next month would be best. Will my favorite godson, Ori, be able to be our ring bearer?”

“You’ve only just gotten engaged last night. When did you have time to discuss the particulars?” George questioned in surprise.

“As soon as she told me she was making me wait to shag her until our wedding night, my first priority was to sort out the details as soon as possible,” Blaise said as he tossed back the rest of his drink. 

“I’m happy for you, mate,” Draco congratulated the Italian wizard as he stood to leave, “but if you’ll excuse me, my wife is waiting to shag me since her parents are watching the children for the night.” Hagrid, Harry, and Ron fought off looks of disgust while George giggled at their discomfort. “When I tell her that you got engaged and pissed your pants, she’ll forgive me for making her wait.” The table erupted with laughter when he reminded them of the part of Blaise’s story that they’d overlooked after he dropped his news about his engagement. 

“You tosser!” Zabini called after Draco. The blond wizard could hear the group teasing his fellow Slytherin as he made his way out of the pub to get home to Hermione.

* * *

**February 3, 2008**

“Is this entirely necessary, Cissa?” Lucius complained for the third time in as many hours. Today would be the first gathering with the Weasleys. His wife was running around as she always did when hosting an event though he didn’t see the reason for the effort today. The moment he saw her shoulders tense and her steal a deep breath, he knew he’d gone too far. His wife turned on him with an agitated glare.

“Regardless of how _you_ may feel about the Weasleys, they have been nothing short of kind to me and my son over the years when we needed friends most,” Cissa began. “What’s more, is they’ve treated us like family and without judgment. Molly was a mother to Draco when I could not be, and whether you want to hear it or not, Arthur is the best example our son has ever had of what a father should be!” she insisted as her hands clenched into fists by her side. “And in case you haven’t noticed, not _one_ person you’ve placed in high regard above the Weasleys is anywhere to be seen and haven’t been in _years_.” The blond witch pinched the bridge of her nose and her shoulders shook violently. There was a time during their marriage when he wouldn’t have reached for her and would have left her there to cry. Those times were over. He closed the gap between them in three long strides, engulfing her in his arms and whispering apologies into her hair. 

“You’re right. I know you’ve told me already,” he said as he rubbed small circles into her back. She started to pull away, but he tightened his grip. “Please, Cissa. Truly. I’m sorry. Call it nerves or embarrassment...I’ll be a complete gentleman. I promise...Please,” he pleaded. When she finally softened and leaned into his embrace, he let out a deep breath of relief. Only when they heard the soft pop of apparition a few minutes later did they break apart. 

“We’re here!” Scorpius announced as he made his way into the dining room, running toward Narcissa with open arms. 

“Grandfather, you did it! Now you’re just as handsome as Daddy!” Cassie squealed with joy before jumping up and wrapping her arms around Lucius’s middle. Self-consciously, he reached back with one hand to finger his shortened locks. He could hardly resist his little granddaughter’s request earlier in the week for him to cut off his hair. Cassie had every male in her life wrapped around her adorable little finger. It’d been nearly four decades since he started growing his hair, and he caved to this five-year-old loveable, little witch. 

“Is that what I’ll look like when I’m old too?” Scorpius wondered as he looked up to his granddad. Lucius couldn’t help but smile at his innocence.

“You’re much better looking than these two tossers, Scorp!” Blaise said, entering the dining room holding a sleeping Ori with one arm, and punching Draco’s side with the other. 

“Mr. Zabini, I see your manners haven’t improved since you were a boy,” Lucius said sternly.

“Yours have. It’s wonderful to see you actually hugging children instead of frightening them half to death,” Blaise retorted with a grin. Even as a child, the Zabini boy had never taken anything seriously. He’d play the part when he was in trouble, but Lucius always heard him cracking jokes to the other boys as soon as he turned his back. 

“Guess what, Uncle Blaise?” Cassie sang, twirling around and hugging the Italian wizard’s leg. 

“What is it, beautiful?”

“You owe me five galleons! Grandfather really cut his hair, and you said he wouldn’t when I told you,” she announced. Blaise looked back at Lucius in shock.

“You sly little witch,” he beamed. “We might have ourselves another Slytherin yet!” he exclaimed, throwing his free arm around Draco. 

“Betting with children. Charming,” Lucius rolled his eyes and absently ran his fingers through his hair again. 

“Grandfather’s haircut is so handsome that I don’t want your galleons anymore, Uncle Blaise,” Cassie said sweetly. With that, she danced her way back to Lucius and happily twirled around his hand. The older Malfoy smiled down at the girl. His heart squeezed at how lucky he was to have her unconditional love. He ignored the two wizards when they shook their heads and Blaise whispered something about Cassie being too pure to be a snake. As far as Lucius was concerned, he was eternally grateful that his granddaughter’s kind heart was helping to make him a better man.

* * *

At first, the tension in the dining room was palpable. No one knew what to say to the once-loyal Death Eater among them. Arthur and Lucius greeted one another with a terse nod that wasn’t quite friendly yet not entirely hostile either. Draco almost felt sorry for his father, the obvious outsider in this crowd. It was Molly who finally broke the ice, stumbling through the floo a few minutes later than the rest with several plates of pies and pastries floating behind her. 

“Oh, Lucius, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, dear!” the Weasley matriarch exclaimed once she settled in and locked eyes with the older Malfoy. “Don’t you look smart with a fresh haircut,” she gushed. In a rare display of embarrassment, his face flushed. Draco could feel Blaise smacking his arm the way he used to as teenagers whenever a dramatic scene was about to unfold while Harry snickered loudly on his other side. 

“Thank you, Molly. It is lovely to see you as well,” he answered stiffly. The matronly witch smiled brightly in return. 

“I don’t know how you ever let him out of the bedroom when he looks like that, Cissy,” Molly whispered conspiratorily to Narcissa louder than she intended. The chorus of groans and squawks of protest immediately followed her comment, and Lucius’s cheeks burned an even brighter shade of crimson. 

“Mum, gross!” George and Ron grunted in revulsion simultaneously while Pansy and Angelina stood behind the two wizards stifling their laughter behind their hands. 

“What? I don’t have eyes? I didn’t mother seven children by turning a blind eye to a handsome man,” she said as she gave Arthur a kiss on the cheek. 

“This is _exactly_ why I came early today,” Blaise giggled by Draco’s side, enjoying his best mate’s current state of disgust. 

Luckily, the children were oblivious to the awkwardness. At Scorp’s request, Rose walked right up to Lucius and began asking a line of questions ranging from what was his favorite Quidditch team to where has he been all these years. To his credit, Lucius answered each query with a surprisingly high level of patience. Before long, James cautiously followed Cassie over to the newcomer, and the rest of the children weren’t far behind. In less than a half-hour, the oldest Malfoy wizard was surrounded by nine children clamoring for his attention. 

“Grandfather, will you please tell my James the story of when our daddies played Quidditch for the first time against one another?” Cassie asked politely as she grasped the young Potter’s hand in her own. Small sparks of magic sprang out from their clasped hands, and Lucius jumped up from his seat to protect his granddaughter from the perceived danger. Without his wand, he looked around frantically for help, but the other adults stood staring at him in confusion. Before anyone else realized that he thought Cassie was hurt, Hermione had crossed the room to explain the situation.

“Lucius, it’s alright,” she said soothingly. “Calm down. They are fine.”

“What-...what was that?” he asked, holding the little girl closely and kissing the top of her curly head. 

“Just another example of a Malfoy taking whatever they want,” Ron murmured with a slight bitterness in his tone.

“Not now, Ronald!” Hermione scolded him and turned back to her father-in-law. 

“We’re still not entirely sure how it happened, but Cassie and James are soul-bound as are Scorpius and Rose. The small sparks you just saw is what happens when their magic connects,” she gently explained.

“But that is very rare,” Lucius replied, relaxing his defensive position and once again settling into his seat with his granddaughter on his lap.

“Just like Mummy and Daddy,” Scorpius said proudly. 

“Not exactly like us...or not yet at least,” Hermione hesitated before sitting at the table beside her father-in-law. “I’m sure you recall the markings you saw on Draco’s back during our third year, which alerted you that he was soul-bound.”

“Yes, of course. I demanded to see Dumbledore immediately to make sure he would not be bound to…,” he trailed off. Draco cringed at his father’s almost-blunder. “...yes, I do recall the marking.” Cissa and Molly glanced at one another, knowing they needed to find a way to remove the little ones from this particular conversation.

“Children, I have some treats for you over here,” Mrs. Weasley called in an attempt to steer young ears from hearing something inappropriate. The horde of children ran over to her, squealing with delight. A giant child himself, George ran over to his mum for the first serving, but she swatted him aside.

“Pudding before our meal!” James whooped as he excitedly clapped Scorpius on the back. 

Once Molly and Cissa had the children occupied, Draco sat beside his wife, unconsciously reaching for her hand. They’d been trying to research the effects of soul-bonds on adolescent bonded pairs for nearly two years without any luck. Although Pansy thought it was cute, Ron had completely lost his temper when he found out about the bond between his only daughter, Rose, and Scorpius. Every time the topic came up, they had to re-explain to him that little Scorp didn’t choose her on purpose. 

“So far, it’s different for them than it was for us,” Hermione began. “By the time we realized our bond, Draco and I were both adults. Our markings are the ancient runes of love and marriage, but for now, all four of them only bear the ancient rune of friendship.”

“Is that the only difference?” Lucius wondered. “I can’t imagine a need for a soul-bond just for friendship.” 

“Another way the bonds are dissimilar is that we felt an overwhelming need to, -er, _complete_ our bond, whereas, they do not,” Hermione said. “Our theory is that the runes and feelings might change once they come of age. The question now is what is ‘of age’ in regard to the bond? All the couples that came before us were married young. One witch was only 14-years-old. Whether it is coincidental that Draco and I were over 17 when we realized we were connected in this way, we don’t know. Obviously, we don’t want them to feel compelled to complete the bond at such a young age.”

“That son of yours better stay as far away from my daughter as possible, Malfoy,” Ron fumed. He’d been awkwardly standing by the table with his wife, Harry, and Ginny. Every time this conversation came up, the ginger wizard griped about the situation. Sometimes Draco would goad him for the fun of it, but that was usually when they were drinking and George and Blaise would join in. Now wasn’t the time. 

“Ronnie, please not now,” Pansy begged him. “Look how innocent they are,” she pointed over to Scorpius reading a picturebook to Rose while she ate her sweets. The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, which earned him a slap from his wife. 

“Rose will be lucky to have a wizard with the looks and wealth of a Malfoy and the wit of a Granger,” Blaise chimed in. “Just ask your mum, Weasley!”

“That’s enough, Mr. Zabini,” Lucius silenced the Italian wizard’s laughter with a glare. “Hermione, you mentioned having two marks, however, I remember my son only having one rune on his back. The last time I checked was possibly just before he turned 17.”

“That’s quite interesting,” she turned to Draco. He could tell she was wondering the same thing as him. “Had it not changed yet because of his age or because we hadn’t touched again until over a year after the last time you saw it?”

“Shall we continue this conversation after lunch?” Harry interjected their musings, pointedly motioning toward an agitated Ron and signaling that they were testing the limits of his temper. The red-haired wizard hated it when they discussed his daughter as if she were a nameless case study. 

* * *

Surprisingly, it was Arthur to extend an olive branch to Lucius. Hermione watched from the opposite end of the table as the two wizards conversed over their meal. It was stilted at first. They’d hated one another for years. Their families had feuded for almost the entirety of wizarding history. At least they were being civil. Draco squeezed her leg under the table, watching her as she silently observed everyone around them. The children looked adorable sitting at the small dining room table Narcissa had conjured just for them. Little Fred was entertaining the younger kids just as his father used to do back at Hogwarts when he was younger. 

Abruptly, Ginny pushed herself away from where she sat in the middle of the table. The frown she pinned on Harry had the raven-haired wizard raising his hands up in defeat. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Before he could say a word, Ginny held up a hand to stop him. It wasn’t often that her best friend had to face his wife’s wrath. Hermione wondered what could make the youngest Weasley so agitated. 

“You, you, you, _and_ you will tell me the truth right now!” she demanded, pointing her accusing finger at each wizard, Blaise, George, Ron, and Draco. Each man looked at the fiery witch with wide eyes. “What did my husband reveal to you at the pub last night?”

“Harry was supportive, I swear it!” Ron implored. “He even congratulated him. We all did.” They looked around at one another, nodding in agreement.

“What?”

“Not that news, mates,” Harry whispered loudly. He still hadn’t moved from his position of surrender as if he thought the smallest turn of his head would anger his wife further.

“Did he or did he not inform you that I am pregnant?” she gritted through her teeth, ignoring the cheers and gasps from those around her.

“He said _you_ already told him,” Harry pointed to George, whose head snapped back in surprise. 

“I said no such thing. This is the first I’m hearing about this, Gin. When is the newest Potter due?” the older Weasley recovered quickly. The wink George slipped Draco was nearly nonexistent. 

“Another Potter? Are you trying to keep up with us?” the blond wizard joked casually as he slipped his arm around Hermione. She knew they were covering for Harry, but she wouldn’t give them away when Ginny was so angry. Draco had divulged the pregnancy news to their unborn son one night when he thought Hermione was asleep.

“The question you should be asking yourself is why haven’t you told _me_ about this baby yet? As an apology, I am willing to be godfather,” Blaise said smoothly. Ginny turned to Ron. If his reddened face hadn’t given him away, it was the sputtering. The Italian wizard gave the Gryffindor a Professor Snape-worthy glare, which triggered something inside his ginger head. 

“Why should he be godfather? That’s not fair!” Ron complained to his sister. He may not be able to lie, but he sure could take the heat of Harry with an argument about something insignificant. 

“Why are you whining? You and Pansy are already godparents to Albus!” Ginny countered. It worked, she was distracted. Ron kept up a weak argument and played his role as the others took a deep breath of relief. 

“Wait. I’m confused. Who was Harry congratulating last night at the pub?” Pansy wondered. 

“I’m glad you asked, Pans. Let me allow all of you to congratulate me since I told the boys last night: Luna and I are engaged!” Blaise announced with his usual flair. If he expected a response other than a dining room full of mouths agape, he was sorely disappointed. 

“I didn’t even know you were dating her,” Arthur gasped.

“Where is she? Shouldn’t she be here to accept our congratulatory sentiments?” Molly wondered.

“When did the Lovegoods start arranging marriages?” Lucius whispered to Narcissa. 

“Why would Luna marry _you_?” Angelina asked with a look of surprise. 

“If you must know, she isn’t here because she doesn’t enjoy the spotlight nor did she want to field all of your questions,” Blaise said diplomatically. “It is not an arranged marriage, though it does carry both the Zabini and Lovegood lines one generation further,” he smirked at Lucius, knowing his comment would rankle the older wizard’s nerves. “Mr. Weasley, you of all people must have noticed she and I have been skirting around one another for years. Though we haven’t been formally dating for long, we are in love,” he explained to the man that was more of a father figure to him than any of his mum’s many husbands. Finally, he turned to Angelina. “Quit kidding yourself, witch. Even your husband knows I’m a catch!” As if on cue, George popped up and ran around the table to give Blaise a kiss on the cheek which caused Angelina to dissolve into a fit of laughter. 

“Please join me for a toast,” Arthur stood and raised his glass with a bright smile. “We have much to celebrate with another baby on the way, a wedding, and...a homecoming,” he said, gesturing to Lucius on the last point. “Cheers to our expanding families. Come Christmas, we’ll be bursting at the seams!” he finished before holding his tumbler high and draining it. In a subtle act of acceptance, Lucius tipped his glass to Hermione and swallowed the rest of its amber liquid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter! I always enjoy your feedback and ideas!
> 
> Once this story is complete, I do plan on writing a Bluna one-shot centered around their date and/or their wedding night.


	8. Meet the Grangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it is taking me about a week and a half to update each chapter as of late. Life has been so busy. Enjoy!

**Chapter 8: Meet the Grangers - February 7, 2008**

As the end of the workday neared, Draco dreaded the impending conversation he needed to have with his father that evening. He’d been putting it off for some time, but it had to happen sooner rather than later. It wasn’t that he was scared of the man anymore, it was that Draco hated to upset the precarious balance of how Lucius started to fit into everyone’s lives. Scorp, Cassie, and Ori adored their once-absent grandfather, and he knew his father felt the same about them. The older wizard practically lit up every time the children entered the room. 

At precisely 5:00 p.m., the blond wizard Apparated to the library in his childhood home and stumbled upon his parents in a heated liplock. Draco cleared his throat loudly to alert them to his presence and awkwardly looked to the ground.

“Oh, Draco!” Narcissa gasped in a high pitched voice. Up until the moment, he’d never caught his parents in such an intimate position. Even though he was a grown man, he felt like an embarrassed little boy who’d seen too much. 

“Sorry to, -er...interrupt, but I wanted a word with father,” the younger Malfoy said. To his surprise, Lucius didn’t look angry or embarrassed. Actually, his father’s expression was somewhat familiar. It was the same look Draco would probably have given any one of his friends had they walked in on him snogging Hermione. For a minute, he felt a sense of camaraderie or maybe an understanding, man to man, with his father. The moment passed quickly, but it was there. 

“You’d like to speak to me?” Lucius asked with an uncharacteristic amount of hopefulness in his tone. Narcissa smiled up at her husband and they exchanged a look that Draco couldn’t quite read. 

“I’ll leave the two of you,” his mother announced. She walked over to her son, squeezing his arm. “Go easy on him,” she whispered as she left the library. 

For the first time since the older Malfoy returned home from Azkaban, the father and son were alone. Lucius motioned for them to sit in the two wingbacked chairs on the far wall. They sat stiffly for a time, neither knowing where to begin. 

“There is something we need to discuss,” Draco began.

“I must admit, I was hoping you’d bring this up,” Lucius said with his lips turned slightly up. The younger Malfoy looked at his father in confusion.

“Pardon?”

“Rebuilding Malfoy industries, of course. You want me to continue to groom you to take over the family business as we’d always planned,” his father answered with a knowing smirk. Draco was taken aback by Lucius’s presumption. It was like he was a boy again with his father making the decisions about his life and all his choices being taken away. He wanted absolutely no part in the crooked company his Lucius started with his grandfather many years ago. The only reason he presently had a hand in it at all was to improve the Malfoy name. 

“Father, I already have a job I love,” he said as the familiar look of disappointment took control of Lucius’s hardened face. 

“What about the company? What will happen to it?” he countered with frustration.

“For the past nine years, the board has been running it. They only defer to me for final decisions since I retain 51 percent of the company,” Draco explained with conviction. A deep sadness passed through his father’s eyes as he took in this new information. 

“Your grandfather and I built that company from the ground up, and you destroyed it so you could play hero alongside Potter!” the older wizard snarled. “How could you? Why would you throw away your dream like that?”

“It was never _my_ dream! It was _yours_! If you ever bothered to talk to me like a person instead of your puppet to control, you’d know that!” Draco exploded, rising from his seat in anger. He was breathing heavily now, and his magic crackled all around him. Lucius’s eyes widened at his son’s outburst, and he appeared to consider Draco’s words. “The company isn’t destroyed. I made it into something my own children can be proud of by firing all your crooked acquaintances. Now it is a company that actually contributes to society instead of robbing it blind. We donate most of the proceeds to various charities.” The silence was deafening as the father and son grappled with what to say to one another. With a defeated sigh, Lucius dropped his head in his hands. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” the older Malfoy finally broke the silence. As his anger receded, Draco sat back down in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. “The business was something I thought could help us to work together and...get to know one another better,” he confessed. These were the words the young Malfoy craved his whole life. His father wanted to see the real him, not just the boy he could order around. A wave of emotion hit him, but he quickly tamped it down. 

“That’s...I don’t know...we could-,” Draco stammered. If his father was willing to accept him and the decisions he made, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to learn the experienced wizard’s opinion on matters of business. “Would you like to floo into the next board meeting?” Lucius’s head shot up from his hands, and he cautiously looked his son in the eye. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts before agreeing to Draco’s offer with a single nod. 

“What is it you _wanted_ to talk to me about this evening?” Lucius wondered thoughtfully. 

“Hermione’s parents,” he said without preamble, rolling his eyes when a predictable look of disgust crossed his father’s face. “I assure you, the Grangers will destroy your ridiculous preconceived notions about Muggles,” Draco scoffed. 

“Perhaps, though it is hard for me to imagine such a thing.”

“You will find yourself severely lacking if you compare yourself to them. Unlike yourself, David Granger has never once killed or tortured _anyone_ over something as trivial as their parentage. That alone makes him a better man. Shall I continue listing your faults as a person, a father, or a husband? I didn’t come here to measure your character to his, but I will if you insist on being delusional enough to believe you are superior in any way,” Draco countered. Eyes drifting to the ground and swallowing hard, Lucius had the decency to appear ashamed by his past transgressions.

“I require no more reminders of where I stand in your eyes. Please continue with the original intent of this discussion.”

“As of late, the children have been asking why their grandparents haven’t been included in family events. They normally come to weekly dinner at the Manor or we go there, but for obvious reasons, we’ve kept them away and visit them separately.”

“What are you proposing?” Lucius asked.

“We’d like to continue our weekly gatherings as a family and would like to _include_ you.”

“You didn’t bother to have this conversation with me when you forced the Weasleys into my life, why bother now?” he questioned with a tone of annoyance.

“There was no need to worry about you attacking the Weasleys, however, my in-laws can’t exactly defend themselves against your magic, accidental or otherwise,” Draco countered. 

“I would hardly attack a guest in my home without provocation,” Lucius sneered before his son cut him with a challenging glare. How many souls had entered this Darkened home and suffered under his father’s cruel hand? Flashes of his wife’s body splayed across the drawing room floor flickered through the younger Malfoy’s mind. His anguish must have been apparent because Lucius hung his head in shame. “I won’t do anything to upset or embarrass you further, Son.”

“We’ll invite them over this weekend. Would you prefer the Weasleys to be there the first time you meet them or not?” Draco asked. He and Hermione had discussed this detail after last weekend went smoothly. On one hand, if they were there, the conversation wouldn’t be as stilted, but perhaps they needed to get the awkwardness out of the way. 

“Would it be alright if onlyArthur and Molly came for the first visit with the Grangers?” he strained to ask, pained to rely on the comfort of his once-enemy. Draco smiled at his father’s response. Maybe there was hope for the old man yet.

* * *

_Arthur,_

_There are many apologies I should make to you and your family, but my pride prevents me from doing so in a hasty letter begging for your help. Please allow me to humble myself and request your assistance in restoring my relationship with my son._

_I need you to teach me about Muggles._

_-L.M._

_P.S. - Please remove the ridiculous, triumphant smile you are undoubtedly wearing before coming to my home on Saturday._

* * *

_Lucius,_

_Attempting to make amends with Draco is worth more than any apology you can offer. I’d be honored to assist with this matter._

_Arthur_

* * *

**February 9, 2008**

People always assumed purebloods wished Muggled didn’t exist at all, but that was almost always untrue. It wasn’t that Lucius wanted them dead or even to hurt them, he just wanted his family line to stay pure. Up until those fateful days when he’d been marked as a Death Eater, his only intention was to avoid the company of Muggles. He’d always been taught they were beneath him. The only Muggles Lucius had ever met in his life were the pets of the Dark Lord. They’d screamed during the torture and graveled for their lives. It was horrible. Had it not been for his wife and son, he would have found a way to escape from beneath the thumb of sodding Tom Riddle, but he couldn’t risk his family’s lives during Voldemort’s reign. If anything happened to either of them because he wasn’t strong enough to follow orders, he’d never forgive himself. 

Now that he’d be meeting his Muggle-born daughter-in-law’s Muggle parents, it was time for Lucius to shift his way of thinking. He’d begun to accept this fact during the meal they’d shared with the Weasleys. It occurred to him while Arthur persisted in engaging Lucius in conversation that his old rival would be the key to navigating this new life. The man was well-liked, respected by the people he cared about, and most importantly, he was obsessed with everything that had to do with Muggles. If the older Malfoy was going to earn his way back into his son’s life, he’d have to befriend the one wizard who could help him. It was for this reason that Lucius had owled Arthur as soon as Draco left two nights prior. 

Much to his chagrin, Arthur arrived earlier than requested on the day Lucius would be introduced to the Grangers. The only thing worse than a Weasley openly smiling was a Weasley trying to suppress their happiness. From the moment he arrived through the floo, the more calm Arthur tried to be, the more Lucius thought he might break down into a fit of giggles. The joy he exuded was contagious, and Narcissa eventually had to leave the room. She was damn-near undignified as she chuckled her way out the door. Lucius could feel the disappointment of his long-past family members bearing down upon him as they silently jeered him from their portraits. 

“Just say your piece so I no longer have to endure watching you struggle with your composure,” Lucius groused after several minutes. The grin he received in return was insufferable.

“I want you to know that I am not happy for any sort of boastful reason. You _trying_ will mean the world to your son,” Arthur explained. “Regardless of how Draco currently acts toward you, he truly seeks your approval. We’ve spoken many times about how he always felt like a disappointment as a boy. You’ve no idea what having your blessing means to him even if he seems as if he doesn’t yearn for it,” he said, clapping Lucius on the shoulder before his smile dropped as quickly as his hand. 

“Thank you,” the blond wizard said stiffly. Though the words didn’t come easily, he was thankful. It pained him to hear another man tell him about his own son’s thoughts and feelings, especially the man sitting before him, but it was a relief to know that Draco still needed Lucius in some way.

The afternoon went on with Arthur explaining Muggle customs and courtesies. The similarity between Muggle behavior norms and the wizarding world had surprised Lucius. Additionally, he learned a lot about the Grangers. The blond wizard was shocked when he found out the way Hermione had hidden her parents during the war. As a teenager, she’d obliviated her parents' memories of her just to keep them safe. He didn’t know if he should fear her or be grateful his son had found a powerful witch like her. Though he would never tell a soul, the more he learned about his daughter-in-law, the more impressed he became with her skill. 

There were two cracks of Apparition followed by two sets of running feet and a woman’s voice that Lucius didn’t recognize. He turned to Arthur with wide eyes looking for reassurance. The look of surprise on the Gryffindor wizard’s face passed quickly and he offered a kind smile instead.

“It will be alright. When in doubt, you can discuss Scorpius, Cassie, and Ori. If you have nothing else in common with the Grangers, you at least have your shared love for those three brilliant grandchildren,” Arthur assuaged him. There was something about the man that was comforting. They were not friends, but somehow he knew that the Weasley patriarch could be trusted. There were very few people he’d come across in his life that he could actually trust. He’d discounted the Weasley family his entire life because of their social status, yet they’d welcomed him regardless of his horrid history with them. 

With the roaring burst of the floo, Lucius could hear Ori greeting Narcissa, a man’s voice, and Molly ordering the children to stop running.

“I must admit, I’m a bit nervous. Should I greet them straight away?” he asked Arthur. Depending on this wizard to guide him made Lucius feel weak. It was entirely unlike him to flounder in any sort of social situation, but he just couldn’t muster his usual bravado. 

“Shall we walk in together, and I can introduce you?” Arthur asked kindly as if he was dealing with a victim instead of the criminal. Lucius nodded, and they walked together to where everyone was gathered in the drawing room. He was slightly mollified by the hand the ginger wizard clapped on his shoulder as he presented him to Jean and David Granger. The children gathered excitedly around the two older wizards and took turns hugging each of them.

“The family resemblance is uncanny,” Jean gasped, looking between himself, Draco, and the two young boys. “I’ve never seen recessive traits present so prominently, especially through multiple generations like this. It’s remarkable,” she said, sounding every bit as swotty as her daughter. 

“Didn’t I tell you, Jean?” Molly smiled. “Each more handsome than the last.” At this comment, Draco subtly smirked at Arthur and rolled his eyes, and the older wizard shook his head in response as if they’d been present for this very conversation many times before. 

Dinner was uncomfortable though not entirely unpleasant. The children’s adorable antics dispelled any outright awkwardness. Having read both Muggle books about dinosaurs and wizarding books on dragons, Scorpius wanted to discuss the possibility that Muggles may have confused dinosaur bones for those of dragons. The boy was brilliant. Lucius couldn’t believe he was making such observations at just five years old. The little blond even pulled a quill and parchment out of his robes to take notes as everyone around the table discussed the matter. Though the Grangers didn’t address Lucius directly, they did listen politely when he spoke. For the most part, it seemed best to simply observe the rest of the guests interact with one another rather than force conversation. As he watched the group before him, he couldn’t help but notice how different the Grangers were than he expected. He’d thought they’d be boorish and uncivilized. However, they were both refined and intelligent without being condescending. 

After the meal, Molly and Cissa helped the children to make magical Valentine decorations while Hermione, and Jean helped. Their laughter peeled through the air as Draco led the men to the sitting room, where he handed out tumblers with generous pours of Ogden’s finest firewhiskey. 

“Mr. Malfoy, my wife and I truly believe in the notion that people can change,” David addressed Lucius after a long pull from his glass. “Try as I might, I am having an extremely difficult time finding forgiveness for someone who hasn’t bothered to show repentance or regret for their past actions. My ability to protect my family from you and your kind is limited by my lack of magic, but as I stand here, everything in me is yearning to strangle the man who attempted to murder my only child. I have to believe...I need to know if you’ve changed, so I don’t find myself to be a hypocrite,” he confessed forlornly. Lucius was taken aback by both this man’s honesty and passion. Of course, he was guilty of what this man accused him of. His desperation to save his own family had caused him to destroy others. Unnamed emotions seized him as a sting hit the bridge of his nose and the backs of his eyes. Had he changed? Of course, he had. Maybe not as much as his wife and son, but the change was there.

“You are wrong about one thing, Mr. Granger. I _am_ sorry for the sins of my past, and your family deserves to hear that from me. Nothing can erase the things I’ve done and the lengths I went through to protect my family. While I am truly remorseful for my crimes, I can not bring myself to regret keeping my son and wife alive,” the blond wizard admitted. 

“I’ve never walked in your shoes before, so I can’t say for sure what kinds of unspeakable acts I would commit for the love of my family,” David empathized for a moment before gathering himself once again. “The question still remains, have you changed your beliefs?” he asked sternly. Up until this point, Arthur and Draco had simply sat on their stools silently watching the exchange, but Lucius could tell they were waiting with bated breath to hear his reply to Mr. Granger’s question. Lucius thought for a moment. At some point, he had accepted this new reality. Admittedly, a part of him wanted a pureblood heir, but just as Narcissa had told him from the beginning, he wouldn’t trade his grandchildren for anything in the world. 

“I believe that I love my grandchildren more than any of the values instilled in me since I was a boy,” he answered as Draco’s eyes grazed over him in surprise. 

“And what of my Hermione?” the Muggle pressed. Lucius looked to his son waiting for the boy to meet his eyes. 

“I cannot hate the source of my son’s happiness. True love is rare and-” 

Suddenly a silver stag raced toward Draco, cutting off Lucius’s sentiment with the voice of Harry Potter.

“Malfoy, come quickly! Another child has stumbled across a cursed object. It’s worse than the others! Meet me at headquarters immediately,” the stag finished before disappearing into thin air. 

“Tell Hermione where I’ve gone,” Draco choked out before Disapparating, his face twisted in anguish. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a filler chapter, but I did want to include Lucius's first time meeting the Grangers. As always, let me know what you think! I promise to have Hermione's POV in the next chapter.


	9. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind and encouraging words about the last chapter! Since I made you wait for an update again, this chapter has a delightful lemon!

**Chapter 9: Valentine’s Day - February 14, 2008**

A sweet floral fragrance was the first thing that Hermione noticed as she slowly roused from her dream. The second thing she noticed was the cold spot where her husband should be. She groaned in frustration. They’d hardly seen one another since he’d disappeared from his parent’s house on Saturday. He came home after she’d fallen asleep at night and was back at work before she woke every day since. 

The poor man had been working himself ragged trying to solve the three cases involving children with cursed toys. The Auror department finally had a breakthrough when they realized all three victims had been Squibs. They hadn’t noticed with the other two cases because the first victim had just turned the official age to determine magical status. It was only this past Tuesday when the parents came forward to reveal the child’s suspected status as a Squib. Though only five, this boy hadn’t given the slightest sign of magic, and his family had been in denial. 

With a bit of reluctance, Hermione opened her eyes and smiled at the bouquet of her favorite flowers, pink and purple peonies, lying next to her. She read the attached card.

_ For my beautiful wife on Valentine’s Day, _

_ It physically pained me to leave you this morning, but I wouldn’t be the man you love if I didn’t try my best to solve this case as soon as possible. Most likely, my original plans for us this evening will have to change, but I’ll make it up to you sevenfold. If I can’t break away to take you out properly, please come to my office instead. Knowing I’ll see you later is the only thing getting me through this day! Kiss our babies for me and tell them I miss them so very much.  _

_ With all the love I possess, _

_ Your devilishly handsome husband _

She sighed as she brushed her fingers over Draco’s familiar neatly written script. As she lay there, Hermione felt his strong emotions flooding through her. The guilt and determination he emanated were overwhelming. Without a doubt, she knew he would eventually break these curses and help solve this case. He had to.

“Mummy! Look at what Daddy sent me!” Cassie squealed as she ran into the room and jumped onto the bed. Grinning widely, she held up a heart-shaped box of chocolates that Draco had charmed to say ‘I love you!’ in his voice with every bite. “Each of us received our treats with our very own owl!” the young witch beamed. 

“Daddy must love you all very much to send you each your very own post,” Hermione assured her with a smile.

“I miss him,” Cassie said sadly, crawling into her mum’s lap for comfort. 

“Me too, love,” she kissed the top of her daughter’s unruly curls. 

“Look what Daddy gave us!” Scorpius announced, sweeping into the room with Ori in his wake. 

“Daddy in here!” Ori grinned as he held up a piece of chocolate from his box. Judging by the boy’s face, he’d already eaten quite a bit of his Valentine treat. 

“I love you!” several charmed candies exclaimed simultaneously in Draco’s voice as the children bit into them. 

“Will he come home after we’ve finished the very last candy?” Cassie wondered excitedly. 

“No, no. It’s just a charm,” Hermione explained. “We may have to surprise Daddy at work for a moment before I take you to your grandparent’s house today.” Cheers erupted all around her. Although she hated to interrupt Draco at work, she knew her husband wouldn’t mind this type of interruption. He needed them as much as they needed him. 

An hour later, armed with their homemade Valentines, the children followed Hermione through the Ministry to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement’s Auror Office. 

“Good afternoon, Nigel,” Hermione greeted the receptionist. “Is Auror Malfoy available for just a few minutes?” she asked. The wizard stared at her nervously with wide eyes. He was afraid of Draco. No matter how sweet her wizard was at home, he maintained his snarky attitude at work. Only close friends and family were privy to his softer side.

“I’m not sure…-er...that is to say...he asked me not to disturb him today,” he stammered, seemingly at war with himself over whether he wanted to deal with the wrath of an angry Auror Malfoy or a disappointed Mrs. Malfoy. Hermione honestly felt bad for the bloke, but her children hadn’t seen their father since Saturday, so she pressed the issue. 

“I’m sure he won’t mind if he is interrupted by his  _ family, _ ” she said sweetly. The nervous wizard stared at her, his eyes pleading. Hermione smiled back at him, fully aware he wouldn’t deny her to her face. He swallowed down his fear and flicked his wand at a crystal ball. The name, Auror Malfoy, glowed in a deathly red followed by the message, ‘You’re lucky I’m not allowed to fire you!’ and a sinister-looking skull. 

“He’s quite busy on a case…” Nigel trailed off, awaiting the fallout of interrupting the intimidating Auror. He didn’t have to wait long. A door slammed and petulant footsteps stomped toward the reception area. 

“What the bloody fu-!” Draco snarled as he came around the corner with his eyes pinned on a white-knuckled Nigel.

“Daddy!” the children squealed. They ran toward him and wrapped their arms around his legs. The scowl that marred the Auror’s face was quickly replaced by a tenderness he reserved only for his family. 

“Why you look messy?” Ori asked, looking up at his father’s disheveled hair and stained black robes. Dark circles crept around Draco’s eyes, reminding Hermione of the way he’d looked during their sixth year at Hogwarts. 

“I've been working too hard, Son,” he said truthfully as he lowered himself to his knees to properly hug his children. When Draco looked at his wife and winked, she practically melted. Good Godric, did she love this man.

Hermione couldn’t help but tear up as she watched her husband allow himself to be dragged to a set of chairs in the waiting area while each child presented him with their homemade gifts. They held onto him as if he would disappear at any moment. 

The short visit was over too soon because he had to return to work. The children kissed him and sat quietly as he finally stood to greet his wife.

“Sorry for intruding, but we all missed you so much,” she murmured. He wiped away a stray tear with his thumb and kissed her softly. 

“Please don’t apologize, Love. It’s been a long few days, and I’ve missed you all terribly,” he assured her as his hands drifted to her stomach. Draco bent down and started speaking to their unborn son. “Daddy loves you too, little man,” he murmured. Nigel’s mouth audibly popped open at the sight of the ever-brooding Auror Malfoy cooing and caressing his wife’s pregnant belly. Hermione ignored the staring receptionist because the rare sight of the intimidating wizard in any sort of vulnerable state was completely contrary to the man Nigel knew. 

“Will I still see you tonight? Or did this interruption set you back too much?” Hermione asked when Draco rose to kiss her goodbye. If it wasn’t his answering smirk that set her skin tingling all over, it was definitely the way he leaned over with a lascivious gleam in his eyes, his mouth hovering just above her ear. Delightful shivers ran down her spine with each of his warm breaths.

“The hounds of Hell couldn’t keep me away from you tonight, witch,” he said in a low growl, causing her to fist his robes and pull him closer. “I’ll owl over the details as soon as I have a better idea of when I’ll have time for a break.” With that, he gave her another kiss, pulling away too soon, so he could return to work. 

* * *

_ My irresistible wife, _

_ Bring my present wrapped in red to the Auror’s office around 6:00 p.m. I’ll have dinner for us. _

_ All my love, _

_ -Your Slytherin sex god of a husband _

* * *

Time ran away from Draco as he slowly made progress on the case. Seeing his family earlier in the day had lit a fire under him, providing a fresh perspective on his task. He’d finally spotted a flaw in the impeccably cursed toy from the last attack. Once he saw it, he found the same flaw in the previous two objects they’d collected from the other cases. This criminal had unintentionally left a signature on his work. It only took one small discrepancy to begin dismantling a series of curses. It was exactly the breakthrough Draco needed, and he’d set to work breaking through curses the rest of the day. About a half an hour before Hermione was scheduled to meet him, he heard a knock on his office door. He quickly checked the time in hopes that his wife hadn’t yet arrived and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he still had about half an hour.

“Are we still doing this or not?” Harry asked, somewhat annoyed. The blond wizard grinned at him.

“Of course, we are, Potter! Quit your sulking.”

“You picked a heck of a time to call in a favor. You know Ginny is going to kill you after she kills me, right?”

“You can inform Mrs. Potter that if she is upset with me, you both can find another person to cover for you when you disappear for your little sexcapades,” Draco proposed with a smirk. As it turned out, Ginny had quite the kink for Harry in his Auror robes. Over the years, the couple had asked Draco on several occasions to cover for their disappearances or hide the evidence. 

“That won’t be necessary,” Harry said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Anyway, I’m sure you won’t take too long since it’s been a while for you two,” he snorted. The blond rolled his eyes.

“Get comfortable guarding that door tonight because I plan on taking my sweet time with-” The Gryffindor immediately closed his eyes and shoved his fingers in his ears.

“That’s enough. The witch is practically my sister; I don’t want to hear about it!” he whispered. “Now, go shower in the locker room before she gets here because you look like a right piece of shite.”

As Draco approached the reception desk just after six o’clock, he stopped short when he saw his wife. She was a vision in her fitted, red trench coat and deliciously matching high heels. Hermione blushed when Draco deliberately ran his eyes down her body from head to toe. 

“Follow me to where adventure awaits,” he purred into her ear. The curly-haired witch placed her hand in his and let him lead her through the maze of Auror cubicles, stopping every once in a while to kiss her properly. By the time they’d reached the restricted elevator at the back of the large office, they were both breathless with need for one another. 

“I’ve never seen this elevator. Where will it take us?” she asked as the elevator doors closed behind them. 

“A place I’ve been waiting to show you since I first discovered it,” he smiled down at her. 

“You’ve been keeping something from me?” Hermione gasped in surprise.

“I have to keep some tricks up my sleeve, or I’d never be able to shock you,” he explained with a smirk. The doors opened to a dank hallway with a few unmarked doors. Draco pulled his wife all the way to the end of the hall in front of a plain door with the word ‘library’ carved into it. Hermione looked at him skeptically, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Slowly, he opened the door, revealing the most extensive library she’d ever seen. For a moment, the witch just stood there staring at the room before her. 

“Why would you hide this from me?” she finally asked, smacking him on the arm. 

“Not hiding, just saving it for the right time.” Draco countered. “Come on. I want to show you my favorite spot,” he said as he tugged her down the wide center aisle and toward one of the larger alcoves. The secluded area was five levels high of floor to ceiling books. Charmed windows showcasing the night sky were placed sporadically throughout the space. A study table was centered on the bottom level where a takeaway bag from Hermione’s favorite Indian restaurant sat at one end. 

“Why is this your preferred spot?” she wondered, still entranced by the opulent space before her. 

“This section is all about Curses and Curse-Breaking, so I spend most of my time here researching for my cases,” he said, motioning his hands around them “It’s my favorite because something about this area reminds me of us studying together in the Hogwarts library,” he pointed to the table in the center of the space. 

“Yes, I can see that,” she smiled. As Hermione took in her surroundings, Draco snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. 

Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, “You know that it has always been a fantasy of mine to have you in a library like this.” Her breath hitched and her body stilled.

“What if we were caught?” she worried, biting her bottom lip. Little did she know that hardly anyone used the library this late in the evening, and Harry was guarding the door for them just in case. 

“Isn’t that part of the fun, Granger?” he cajoled, turning her in his arms to face him. His wife’s face flushed, and her eyes darkened with desire. Before she could overthink it, Draco bent down to kiss her hard. His fingers threaded through her hair while his palm tenderly caressed her neck, her pulse racing. The desire to crush her against him overtook his thoughts. His other hand squeezed her hip, and he pulled her closer to him. Without breaking the searing kiss, he lifted her up and swallowed her surprised yelp. Draco carried her to the table, placing her on top of the smooth surface. He slithered his hand between them to untie the belt of her coat. It fell open as she leaned back and allowed him to take in the sight of her. 

“I wrapped your present in red as you requested,” Hermione said seductively, raising a challenging eyebrow. The blond wizard’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Fine red lace covered his witch’s curves in the most exquisitely tempting ways. As soon as he had seen it in the lingerie store the month prior, he knew she would look perfect in it for this moment he’d planned in his head since he’d first set eyes on this library years ago. He only wished he could have seen her face when she opened it earlier this afternoon. His eyes drifted down to his favorite part of his wife. The sexy garment left an opening so that her perfect quim was exposed to him. In an invitation for him to continue his adventure, Hermione leaned back on her elbows and spread herself open for him. 

“Fucking beautiful,” he whispered before diving into her center. Draco nipped and kissed her thighs as she tried to push herself closer to him, but he held her in place. He would take his time with this part. When he finally worked his way to her center, she was writhing beneath him.

“Draco, please…” she moaned over and over again. 

“Have patience, love,” he smiled at her obvious desire. The wizard withheld from using his fingers, so she would yearn for him to fill her up, but he continued to assault her core with his tongue until she finally exploded. Her legs squeezed his head, but he pushed them wide open to lick her through her completion. Hermione’s incoherent screams reminded him that he should have cast a silencing charm before they started, but the thought of Harry’s misery at having to hear his best friend make these delicious noises made Draco smile. It wasn’t as if the Potters always remembered to silence themselves either. 

“I need you now!” Hermione commanded, pulling him up forcefully by his hair. Their mouths collided in desperate kisses of prolonged absence. Her fingers struggled with the buttons of his robes before ultimately resorting to ripping them open. Draco would have laughed if he weren’t as eager as his wife. Shrugging off his torn robes, he removed the rest of his clothing and sat in the chair at the end of the table. 

“Come here and show me how much you’ve missed me,” he said, reaching his hand out to her. The curly-haired witch took hold of him and swung her leg over Draco’s lap. She sank down maddeningly slow onto his hardened cock. “Fuuuuuuuck…,” he groaned. Merlin, this woman felt amazing! “So fucking wet for me, Love.” 

“I’ve waited too long for this,” she moaned as she grabbed fistfuls of his hair. Without warning, she began to ride him hard and fast. Grabbing her hips, he pushed up into her, desperate for her. As if she knew he’d come at any moment, she slowed down and leaned back, holding onto his shoulder with one hand. She moved her other hand to her center and allowed her fingers to explore her wet folds. Draco watched her through heavily, lust-filled lids. There was nothing as beautiful as his witch gratifying herself with his dick deep inside her.

“Come for me, Granger, so I can fuck you against those bookshelves!” he demanded before taking one of her taut nipples into his mouth. His words spurred her on, and she came apart almost instantly. As she tightened around his cock, he scooped her up and pushed her against a cushioning charm he’d cast against the hard planes of the shelves. After only a few vigorous thrusts inside her, Draco erupted with pleasure. He could hardly stand but still managed to carry her back to the chair. 

“I love you,” Hermione breathed as she leaned into him. In reply, he kissed her on the top of her head.

“So, you…-er liked that?” Draco asked nervously, his fingers stroking her back soothingly and their magic passing easily between them. Since their days at Hogwarts, having his wife in the library had been  _ his _ fantasy, so he was anxious for her to enjoy the experience as much as he did.

“It was perfect…” she said softly. “This might be my new favorite place,” Hermione laughed, kissing Draco on the cheek. 

“Fuck, Granger! I’ll never get anything done in here again except fantasizing about you,” he grinned and leaned his forehead against hers. 

“I can’t believe we just did that! What if someone walked in?” she giggled as she looked around them, suddenly realizing they might have been caught. 

“Every second of making my greatest fantasy a reality was worth getting caught,” the blond assured her. He knew her brain was starting to kick into high gear, so he vanished the mess, fixed his torn robes, and they both dressed. As if on cue, her stomach growled, and they ate before Draco had to return to work. 

* * *

**February 22, 2008**

“It’s about damn time you showed your face around here!” George yelled as Draco entered the Leaky Cauldron. 

“Let me guess what I missed last weekend,” the blond replied. “Was Potter still bragging about what he heard on Valentine’s Day?” he joked. The dark-haired wizard pinched his face in disgust.

“You. Are. Vile! She’s like my sister!” Harry exclaimed. “Hearing her screaming  _ your _ name was like a knife cutting through my brain. I’d rather listen to Voldemort’s voice in my head than  _ that  _ ever again.”

“It was probably the first  _ real _ orgasm you’ve ever heard in your life, Potter. You should be thanking me,” Draco chuckled as Blaise choked on his drink.

“You’ve made it very clear that my wife and I have forgotten to use a silencing charm on occasion, so you  _ know  _ that’s not true,” Harry countered, looking quite pleased with himself. 

“Gross!” Ron looked worse off than the time he’d regurgitated slugs.

“Ugh! She’s our sister, Harry!” George griped as he punched his brother-in-law in the arm.

“Sorry, mates,” the bespeckled wizard apologized, looking properly chastised. 

“I’m thinking of moving up our wedding date,” Blaise announced out of the blue, something he often did when the attention wasn’t on him. 

“You can’t wait three more weeks?” Ron asked in surprise.

“And what does Luna think of this little change?” George questioned knowingly. The Italian wizard glared at him.

“Celibacy isn’t for everyone, gents,” the Slytherin explained to his laughing friends. “I know she wants me as much as I want her, but she is hellbent on sticking to her rule to wait for our wedding night.” 

“So, she is letting you move the date of the wedding?” George pressed. 

“She told me that we would  _ not _ be changing the date under any circumstances,” he grumbled.

“What’s that? Does Blaise Zabini follow orders from a witch now?” Draco teased. His best mate rolled his eyes. 

“I hate my friends,” the Italian wizard sulked. 

“What do you make of all this, Potter?” The dark-haired wizard began giggling in his drunken state.

“He sounds  _ whipped _ to me!” Harry announced. 

“No, that couldn’t be it. Blaise said he would  _ never _ fall under the spell of a woman,” George chimed in. 

“And I quote, ‘If I ever look as lovesick as Weasley does with Pansy, just Obliviate me!’ Isn’t that what you said?” Ron questioned with a grin. 

“Merlin be damned, I love that woman and I want her to be mine as soon as possible! Fuck the lot of you!” Blaise exclaimed.

“Should we Obliviate you now or do we need Luna’s permission first?” George chuckled as he reached for his wand. 

“Sod it all,” Zabini raised his glass. “Man-whore Blaise is dead and Whipped Blaise is king now!” the Italian wizard announced before downing the rest of his drink to an eruption of cheers. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to  _ cuddle _ with my fiance for the rest of the evening.” With that, he staggered his way to the floo and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take the time to let me know what you think in the comments! The next chapter will feature Blaise and Luna's wedding.


	10. Mr. and Mrs. Zabini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am overwhelmed with the kind comments from the last chapter. I'm so pleased that so many people enjoyed the library scene between Hermione and Draco.
> 
> I'm sure I won't be able to post again before Thanksgiving, but I do have off until next Tuesday, so I'll do my best to post again soon.

**Chapter 10: Mr. and Mrs. Zabini - March 15, 2008**

“Why the fuck aren’t we wearing shoes?” Draco asked skeptically, his arms folded across his broad chest.

“You want us to wear the formal dress robes you picked without shoes? That seems strange, mate,” Harry added.

“Please tell me the whole wedding party will be in the buff!” George giggled. “No shoes, no pants, no problem!”

“Your brother and your bloody  _ sister _ are in the wedding party, you git! Is that who you hope to see naked?” the blond challenged, silencing George with the unwelcomed image of his siblings.

“You’ll be wearing clothes...and I didn’t say you  _ wouldn’t _ be wearing shoes, just that you won’t  _ feel _ like you’re wearing them...” Blaise trailed off sheepishly, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“I’m not wearing a lion’s head or whatever Lovegood used to wear to Quidditch matches back at Hogwarts,” Draco declared incredulously. Remembering the ridiculous headpiece, Harry and Ron snickered behind their hands.

“It should be no surprise that Luna’s wedding dress is nontraditional,” Blaise said, ignoring his best friend. “It has been magically preserved and passed down through her mother’s side of the family since the fourteenth century when witches and wizards were more closely tied to the natural elements. In honor of her mother, I planned every detail of the wedding around her dress,” Blaise explained. 

“What kind of clothes did they wear in the fourteenth century?” Ron asked with a furrowed brow. He looked like he’d just swallowed a nasty potion.

“I present to you your wedding clothes!” the Italian wizard announced with a swish of his wand. The wizards looked around at one another, torn between complete disgust and laughing hysterically. 

“These are fucking dresses, you prat!” Draco griped. “And what the fuck are these pants?” Unable to contain himself any longer, George collapsed into a fit of giggles at Malfoy’s outburst.

“It’s called a tunic, not a dress, and those aren’t as much pants as they are stockings,” Blaise corrected with a smirk. “I look amazing in them. Look at the size of this bulge,” he bragged, pulling up his knee-length garment to show off the front of his stockings. 

“Come on, mate, nobody wants to see that!” Harry whined. 

“Look at the detail in the embroidery on these,” Blaise said, pointing to some stitched designs in the fabric.

“Stop saying words like ‘embroidery’ to me,” Ron complained. “You know I have no idea what you mean, nor do I have an inclination to care.”

“I love my dress,” George announced. 

“Tunic,” Blaise corrected.

“Perhaps I’ll start wearing these all the time,” the older Weasley went on, spinning around like a child. He reached for Draco’s hand as if he was going to spin him, but the blond quickly moved out of his grasp and slapped George’s hand away from himself.

“And what do you think Angelina will think when her husband starts wearing a dress around?” Draco laughed, clapping George on the back. 

“ _ Tunic _ .”

“She’ll never let you shag her again, mate,” the blond warned.

“Fair point. Maybe I’ll just wear the stockings with my cock on full display everywhere we go. That’ll get her going,” the Gryffindor grinned wickedly. 

“That’s the spirit, George!” Blaise exclaimed with a chuckle. “Wait until you see your wives. You’ll thank me later,” he boasted. 

Somehow, the Italian Wizard had found a large cave behind a magnificent waterfall to host Luna and his wedding. It was lit with fairy lights and decorated as if it were the royal dining hall of a castle. Because they were his fiancé's favorite animal, the Italian wizard had arranged for a herd of unicorns to graze near the entrance of the magical venue. Hagrid had worked tirelessly for over a week to scout the area and lure the gentle creatures near the path where Luna’s procession would walk right by them. It was a treat for his bride and guests alike. Draco couldn’t wait to hear how Cassie reacted to seeing real unicorns. 

From the moment his wife led the procession of bridesmaids into his view, Draco had to keep reminding himself to pay attention to the wedding. He never knew a neck could be so sexy, but the way the neckline of her dress accentuated the tops of her shoulders and the smooth skin of her throat made him want to lick every exposed centimeter of her. The finely embroidered silk was rich with deep blues, greens, and golds, which complimented his costume perfectly. When Hermione eyed the lot of them standing beside Blaise, she failed to conceal the giggle that escaped her full lips. For the millionth time today, Draco cursed Blaise’s choice in groomsmen attire. As his wife drew closer, her eyes slowly drifted up and down the length of his body, and just before she turned to stand in her spot, she bit her bottom lip, winking at Draco.

“It appears that the young Mrs. Malfoy might fancy some roleplay,” Blaise knowingly smirked as he elbowed the blond wizard in the ribs.

“It just goes to show how handsome I am: even this dress looks good on me,” Draco quipped.

“ _ Tunic _ ,” Blaise corrected.

“If it makes you feel better to call it that…”

“ _ It _ seems to be having the same effect on Mrs. Potter and the two Mrs. Weasleys, so just thank me and get it over with,” the Italian wizard persisted. The witches had similar reactions to Hermione’s upon seeing their respective wizards. 

“Care to make a bet gents?” George whispered from beside Draco. The two Slytherins grinned in response. 

“Always,” Blaise said conspiratorially. Suddenly, horns announced the start of the Bridal Chorus, immediately ceasing any further conversation. The groom stood taller and stared anxiously at the spot where his bride would enter. 

Luna Lovegood was a sight to behold as she floated down the aisle with her blue silk dress, embellished with gold accents. A dopey smile adorned Blaise’s smitten face, his love for the blond witch emanating off of him. Through their joy, the couple didn’t seem to notice the tears flooding her father’s eyes when he placed his only daughter’s hand in the palm of her groom. Draco watched the man with pity as he imagined the day he’d one day have to place his own Cassie’s hand in that of James Potter. He felt Hermione’s amused expression on him as he shot a scowl toward the young boy where he sat between his grandmother and Scorpius. Ron must have frowned at Scorpius too because Molly flashed both men a reproachful glare, motioning angrily with her finger for them to turn away from her innocent grandsons. For the first time, Draco could actually understand Ron’s frustration with Scorpius. Though the young boys were simply children now, one day they’d grow into the men that would take their little girls away from them. What had happened in his life that he could see Ron’s perspective on things? What was worse is they’d be sure to be on the wrong end of a scolding from the fierce Weasley matriarch later. 

The wedding was intimate with only about thirty people in attendance. It was the bride and groom’s wish to have a private ceremony and only invite those closest to them. While Luna’s reasoning for having a small guest list was because she wanted to spend the day with those she loved the most, he imagined Blaise’s reasoning to be far less noble. With A-list guests like the Golden Trio, the Minister of Magic, and Quidditch stars Oliver Blythe and Ginny Weasley in attendance, his Italian friend would not be the center of attention with a larger crowd. Either way, Draco was relieved to be spared from the prying eyes and curious stares his family still received from strangers after all these years. 

The golden rays of the setting sun shone through the waterfall and lit the couple in rainbows as Luna and Blaise spoke their vows in Italian, the love language sounding ethereal in Luna’s dreamy voice. Though some may not have understood the words, the meaning and emotions were clear. Once the Minister had performed the incarnation for the marital binding, waving his wand over the heads of the happy couple, a shower of stars rained down upon them. Everyone clapped while Blaise kissed his bride. Eventually, the applause died down as the kiss heated further. 

“Shall we all wait here and watch while you consummate your vows or can the rest of us move on to the reception?” the blond wizard repeated the same words Blaise had said to him on his wedding day so many years ago. 

“That would be wonderful, Draco. Thank you,” Luna replied, hardly pulling away from her new husband’s lips as he choked on a laugh. 

“Sorry, love. Now I’m going to make you wait for me as I’ve waited for you,” Blaise smiled at his witch. “I plan on taking my time with you and certainly won’t want your father around to hear when I make you scream,” he whispered loudly enough for Draco to hear. 

“Alright. You have three hours before I start with or without you,” she said, kissing her groaning wizard on the cheek and pulling him toward the small gathering of well-wishers. 

“Don’t you look fetching in a tunic and stockings,” Hermione said suggestively as she looped her arm through Draco’s. 

“We both know I look fetching in everything, darling,” he smirked. 

“Don’t be a prat.”

“You married a prat. How else would I behave?” 

“Perhaps if you  _ do _ behave, we’ll try something  _ new _ tonight,” she whispered breathily. “Molly already offered to watch all of the children for the evening.” Merlin, he loved this woman. 

“I can be a  _ very _ good boy for you, Mrs. Malfoy,” he wagged his eyebrows. Leaning down, he purred, “If you want, I can be very bad too.” Draco grinned as his wife shivered at his words. 

For his part, Blaise pulled out all the stops for his own wedding. It was as if he and Luna were a king and queen hosting court from the head table at a great feast during the fourteenth century. Between each course, there were dramatic interludes featuring various wizarding musicians. After the meal ended and the cake was served, a band serenaded the couple for their first dance. Others joined them on the dance floor, including little Cassie, who danced to every song. 

Slipping the band some extra galleons, Draco was able to persuade them to play the song Lucius had used to teach the little witch her Viennese Waltz. He watched her face light up as the first few notes played. She began to move on her own with an imaginary partner with a serene smile on her face.

“May I have this dance?” Draco asked his daughter. The year of hell his father put him through to learn this frustrating dance so long ago was well worth the sight of pure glee in Cassie’s eyes. He waited for her to place her hands, a challenge because of their difference in height. 

“Daddy, how do  _ you _ know this dance?” she wondered as he led her around the floor. 

“The same way you do, darling. Your grandfather taught it to me,” he answered. Draco decided to spare her the details of how he was forced to learn and hated every minute of it. 

“Are you mad at him for teaching me?” she asked sadly. 

“Only if you don’t like it.”

“It’s my favorite thing in the whole world!” she announced happily. “And Grandfather is the best teacher. He always tells me how well I am doing and how proud he is of me,” she continued. His father was proud of her? The thought was astounding. Draco would have done anything as a child if he thought he might please that man. 

“I can see why. You are much better at this than I ever was,” he told her, slightly choked up. Cassie beamed at her father’s praise.

“He says he’ll teach me more dances if I want to learn them. I do, Daddy! Please say it’s alright!” Cassie begged, her big brown eyes pleading with him. As if he would ever say no to this little girl. He’d give her anything when she looked at him like that.

“Of course, you can continue taking lessons from Grandfather if you like it,” he told her.

“Thank you, Daddy!” she cheered, jumping into his arms. He danced with his daughter hugging his neck tightly until the song ended. Cassie kissed his cheek before jumping down and running toward the group of other children. He tried to ignore her as she pulled James to the dance floor before the music started again. Was there a wizard in existence that his daughter didn’t have wrapped around her finger? 

“I suppose your father has something to do with our daughter’s improved dancing skills,” Hermione slid her arms around him. 

“She loves it.”

“I know. I’ve seen her practice,” she replied. “You know Scorpius isn’t too thrilled to be pulled in as her partner every so often,” the curly-haired witch smiled. 

“It couldn’t hurt the boy to learn. We know Pansy  _ will  _ force Rose to take lessons one day too. At the very least, he’ll be able to impress her as I do you,” Draco smirked, pulling his wife into his arms and leading her around the dance floor. 

“What makes you so sure I’m impressed?” she rolled her eyes. 

“Nice try, witch. Even if I couldn’t feel it here,” he placed their joined hands over his heart, “It’s the way you undress me with your eyes and chew on that bottom lip of yours,” he said, staring into her eyes and challenging her to deny it. She flushed and turned away. “Don’t look away, love. I find your tells endearing.” Hermione smiled shyly as she turned back toward him. Slowly, Draco leaned down and kissed his wife. He couldn’t thank the Weasleys enough for taking care of the kids tonight. 

* * *

**March 16, 2008**

It’s not that Lucius wasn’t grateful for the opportunity to spend the remainder of his prison term in his familial home. Of course, being at the Manor with his family was much more preferable than rotting in Azkaban. At the time he was released, he had only imagined being content with spending the rest of his time with Cissa and not missing anything from the comfort of his home. That was before he met his grandchildren. Before he knew all of the future events he’d be missing. 

He’d had plenty of time to think of every moment he’d miss the night before after Cissa left for the Zabini wedding. There’d be so many things he’d only get to hear about and not see for himself. Last night, it was how Cassie danced the waltz with Draco. There were Quidditch games, celebrations, and vacations he’d never have a chance to be a part of. Worst of all, he’d never see Scorpius, Cassie, and Ori off to Hogwarts for the first time. His only saving grace was the new baby on the way. At least he’d be able to see that pivotal moment in his youngest grandchild’s life. 

The Weasleys and Grangers accommodated him as much as they could, but they couldn’t always be expected to come to the Manor for every milestone. What would happen at Christmas? Would his family leave him to go to the infamous Burrow he’d heard so much about for their holidays? He found it difficult not to mourn the loss of memories he’d never get to make. Once again, he hated the wizard he once was. The wizard that was too ignorant to see Tom Riddle for what he was, a madman. 

Suddenly, the floo came to life with a whoosh of green light, pulling him from the cloud of depression settling itself around him. When Molly and Arthur stepped through with the children, Lucius could feel his mood improve instantly.

“Grandfather! Are you feeling better? Grammy said you were feeling under the weather and couldn’t come to Uncle Blaise and Aunt Luna’s wedding last night,” Cassie rushed out as she ran into his arms. Lucius shot Molly a look of gratitude, which she returned with a warm smile.

“I’m much better now that the three of you are here,” he said as he kissed the top of his granddaughter's head. Scorpius and Ori pushed forward and hugged him tightly.

“I’m glad you’re well, Grandfather,” Scorpius admitted, his inherited gray Malfoy eyes filled with concern. He didn’t deserve his grandson’s empathy, and the thought of telling him the truth one day gutted Lucius. 

“Love you!” Ori squeezed Lucius’s leg. The boy pulsed with magic that enveloped the older Malfoy’s entire being. He could feel the magic pumping through him, pushing the darkness away and leaving love in its wake. The compulsion to fully embrace the child overtook him, and he dropped, along with the Weasleys’ jaws, to the floor to let Ori climb into his lap with Cassie and Scorpius flanking his sides. 

“I love you too,” Lucius whispered around the lump in his throat, his own magic reaching out to the three young children. 

“We have a present for you!” Cassie announced gleefully. “Can we give him the present now, Grammy?”

“Of course, dear,” Molly smiled. The little witch ran to her Grammy and began jumping and clapping in anticipation of whatever the elder witch had stowed in her bag. 

“We know this doesn’t make up for not being there, but we hope it helps,” Arthur said as Cassie handed Lucius a picture frame. 

“Dear, Merlin, what is my son wearing?” he wondered, laughter bubbling up within him. Unbidden tears stormed his eyes as he continued to watch the picture behind the glass. He must have sat there for a long time watching the scene of his son dancing with his granddaughter before Scorpius was handing him some sort of book. He hadn’t even felt the boy leave his side. 

“These are from Nan and Pop’s Muggle camera. The pictures don’t move,” Scorpius explained. Lucius opened it to the first page, where a still picture of Draco’s smiling family at the wedding filled the whole page. He continued to flip through the book, enjoying the commentary from Scorpius and Cassie of what was happening in each photograph. Cissy hugging all of the children; Blaise and his new bride as the Minister performed the marital bond; Draco with all of the groomsmen wearing those ridiculous tunics; Hermione with her fingers woven through Draco’s hair as he knelt by the swell of her middle and grinned; Cassie dragging the oldest Potter boy toward the dance floor. The final image gave him an idea.

“I cannot thank you and the Grangers enough for this. It means the world to me,” Lucius affirmed from his heap on the floor. 

“It was nothing, dear,” Molly waved him off, but he could see the joy in her eyes. 

* * *

_ Mr. Potter, _

_ It has come to my attention that your son is as inept in the skill of dancing as his father. If he ever wishes to be tied to my granddaughter, he will need to remedy his shortcomings. Cassie’s happiness is paramount to me, therefore, I am offering my services to train the boy.  _

_ -Lucius A. Malfoy _

* * *

_ Mr. Malfoy, _

_ Because my wife thinks the children will look adorable dancing, I am being forced to accept your offer. Apparently, your insults toward me and my son are easily ignored for the sake of cuteness. When would it be convenient for James to begin?  _

_ -Harry _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments! I enjoy reading your commentary!
> 
> Have a wonderful holiday!


	11. Life Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting patiently as I fleshed out this chapter. I had a bit of writer's block at first, but once I started, a character I've been missing snuck his way into the story. Let me know what you think of the appearance of this character.

**Chapter 11: Life Lessons - March 15, 2008**

"You're just in time!" Ginny sang as soon as Hermione arrived through the floo. The ginger witch was laughing hysterically, pulling her friend across the room.

"In time for what exactly?"

"For this," Ginny said as she quietly nudged open the door to the Manor ballroom.

Peeking through the crack of the door, they watched Lucius sitting on the floor, a sight to behold within itself, surrounded by six small children and Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I'm quite impressed with your progress today, which is more than I can say for your father," Lucius said sternly, eyeing Harry with a judgmental glare. The children giggled behind their hands, and Hermione could swear she saw a ghost of a smile tug at the corners of the older Malfoy's lips.

"I thought I did… -er, better today," Harry protested, a fresh chorus of giggles enveloping his objection.

"Listen, Mr. Potter, I'd really like to move you to the older children's class with Victoire, Teddy, and Fred, but you're just not up to snuff," Lucius admonished. "I'd rather not have to resort to private lessons as I did with your friend, Mr. Weasley."

"Harry and Ron are taking dance classes?" Hermione whispered in shock. "Why didn't they tell me?"

"Because they are terrible. Harry is not as bad as Ron, which isn't saying much. He'd kill me if he knew we're watching him right now," Ginny answered her. Both witches stifled a laugh.

"No! Anything but private lessons," Harry begged, reminding Hermione of his days at Hogwarts when he used to dread completing his work. Lucius gave him a cold stare.

"Pop quiz, children," the older Malfoy announced. "We will all watch Mr. Potter dance with my wife. Anyone who catches a mistake will earn themselves a Chocolate Frog." The children cheered in response while Harry groaned.

The Auror hesitantly rose to his feet and joined Narcissa in the center of the ballroom. His brow furrowed, and he made several attempts to wipe his hands on his robe. Hermione could barely hear her mother-in-law mention something about being used to sweaty palms from when Draco was a teenager and partnered with her. Lucius used to make him prove what he'd learned at his lessons while he was away at school. Her heart melted at the thought of her husband as a nervous teen, afraid of his father and attempting to prove his worth.

With a flick of Narcissa's wand, the music began to play, and the pair began to move. Regardless of her awkward partner, Narcissa practically floated with her usual unbridled grace. Little hands immediately shot up, including Ori and Albus, who weren't officially part of the class yet.

"Scorpius, your hand was first. Tell us a mistake you can see Mr. Potter making," Lucius called on his grandson. Although his looks were identical to his father and grandfather, the little blond's excited facial expression rivaled his mother's when a professor would call upon her to answer a question.

"His steps are too wide," he answered proudly.

"Well spotted!" Lucius tossed the boy a Chocolate Frog. "Potter, please correct your steps," he said, waiting a moment for Harry to adjust himself. "Young Mr. Potter, what other mistakes do you observe?"

"My dad has noodle arms," the dark-haired boy laughed as he caught the treat Lucius tossed his way. Cassie clapped with glee when James answered correctly.

"Right you are, young man. I daresay your frame is infinitely better," Lucius smirked. The little wizard grinned at the compliment, and little magic sparks erupting all around him as Cassie squeezed his hand. A softness crossed over the older wizard's face when James handed Cassie half of his chocolate. It took Lucius a moment to compose himself before correcting Harry's loose frame. "There is one more way for Mr. Potter to improve his current form. Who can tell me what it is?"

"He keeps looking down at his feet, and you said we're not supposed to do that," Cassie answered with a bright smile and her hand still waving in the air. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Outstanding," Lucius praised his granddaughter while bending down to kiss her head and hand her the Chocolate Frog she earned.

"Uncle Harry isn't so mad this time," Rose commented shyly, her big blue eyes mimicking the exact look that her father always made when he was unsure.

"Excellent observance, Ms. Weasley," Lucius smiled. "Last time, Mr. Potter kept losing his temper, which caused him to make even more mistakes." He handed the beaming witch a treat. "Potter, if you can sustain acceptable skills for the rest of the song, I will move you up to the older children's class next week," the blond wizard called.

Hermione imagined it was difficult for Harry not to roll his eyes and become angry, but she could see Narcissa was whispering to him and coaching him through the rest of the dance. The Gryffindor wizard responded well to the positive reinforcement he was received and almost appeared to know what he was doing. When the song ended, Lucius clapped, which made the children begin to clap and cheer along with him.

"Congratulations, Potter, you're ready to move up. Since your wife is so keen on spying on your progress, I presume she'll join you in the future," the older Malfoy said, poignantly aiming his gaze at the slightly-opened door. Ginny gasped in surprise as Harry turned to glare at her. All the children turned to find Hermione and Ginny laughing at themselves for being caught snooping.

"Mummy!" Cassie squealed when she noticed her mother. "Did you see Uncle Harry dancing? He's moving up to the big kids' class! I'm so proud of him," the little witch cheered, jumping up and down and pointing to Harry. Hermione nodded sheepishly, the weight of her best friend's angry expression boring a hole in the side of her head.

"I apologize for interrupting your lesson, Lucius, but I actually came here with some good news for you," the curly-haired witch said. A look of surprise passed over his face before he quickly schooled his expression.

"I don't understand. What good news?" he wondered cautiously.

"As you know, the youth Quidditch League hosts monthly matches. Cissy brought it to my attention that you felt you were…-er, saddened to be missing out on an aspect of Cassie and Scorp's lives, so a couple of months ago, I spoke to the league president about this issue. If you both agree to it, we came up with a solution," she explained, looking between her in-laws.

"I'll be able to go see them play? Won't that need to go through the Minister first?" Lucius asked apprehensively as if he was trying not to get his hopes up too high.

"No, you won't be able to travel, however, you may host a match at Malfoy Manor and attend the game. It would cost some money to set up a youth Quidditch pitch, but I assumed you'd be willing to part with some galleons if you want to share this part of the children's life."

"We'll do it!" Lucius immediately agreed without consulting his wife. "We'll host every match if it allows me to be present," he promised.

"Yay!" Cassie and Scorpius cheered, abandoning their seats and running to squeeze Lucius around the middle.

"Actually, there is one problem with-" Hermione started before realizing their audience. "Ginny, would you please take the children to get a snack?"

"Of course. Come on, kids. I brought some of Grammy Molly's famous chocolate chip cookies with me!" Ginny announced. The group of children gleefully followed her to the dining room for their special treat. Hermione waited for them to be out of earshot before speaking again.

"The problem is that only one team was willing to attend a match here because...well, you know…" she trailed off, gesturing awkwardly toward Lucius.

"I see," the wizard replied, lowering his eyes to the floor. In an effort to comfort him, Narcissa crossed the open space between them and reached for her husband's hand. After a moment he looked into her eyes. She gave him a small smile, and he nodded. "Whatever it costs will be worth it to be there for my grandchildren for even just one match. We cannot thank you enough for this opportunity. Merlin knows what sort of convincing it must have taken on your part," Lucius grinned at Hermione for the first time since she'd met him. The sight of it was foreign to her yet so similar to the smile of her own husband. It felt like progress. Perhaps she could have a healthy relationship with her father-in-law one day. All the red tape she had to go through to provide Lucius with the opportunity to watch Cassie and Scorp play Quidditch was worth it for this moment. She allowed herself to smile back at him.

* * *

**April 5, 2008**

It shouldn't have shocked Lucius that the media would want to cover a children's Quidditch game when it was hosted by a former Death Eater, but it did. The vile form of Rita Skeeter was standing outside the gates of Malfoy Manor two hours early on the day of the event. Lucius and Draco watched from the drawing room window as Hermione gesticulated wildly at the corrupt reporter. He wondered what caused the look of horror that flashed across Skeeter's face when his daughter-in-law stomped her foot on the ground and twisted it as if she'd just squashed a bug. The petrified woman nodded emphatically before she cautiously entered the property.

"I almost feel bad for that Skeeter woman. She appears to be frightened of your wife," Lucius commented off-handedly, wondering how his daughter-in-law could easily bend the will of so many powerful witches and wizards.

"It's a mistake to cross Hermione; she's just reminding Skeeter why that is exactly," Draco smirked, his eyes never leaving his wife as she escorted the reporter to the front entry.

"I'll admit, she's quite remarkable."

"Who? Skeeter?" the younger Malfoy scoffed, finally turning to look at his father.

"You're wife, of course," Lucius answered plainly. "Don't look at me like that, Son," he said when Draco simply gaped at him. "I think I've made it quite obvious how I feel about my grandchildren...It is possible for me to change you know." The two eyed one another for a moment before Draco opened his mouth to speak.

"Lucius, would you be willing to do an interview with Miss Skeeter?" Narcissa interrupted before Draco could say anything.

"Actually, I'd like to interview the whole family, including Miss Granger," Rita cut in.

"It's Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione corrected her as she entered the room and reached for Draco's hand. "We've only been married close to a decade," she whispered to her husband with a tone of irritation, both rolling their eyes.

"Surely it isn't news that a grandfather will watch his grandchildren play Quidditch," Lucius said innocently. Though he remained calm on the surface, his heart seized at the thought of the children finding out the type of person he used to be. Blast this woman and her story. They'd hate him once they found out.

"It is news when that grandfather is a man who once wished to exterminate all Muggle-borns from the world, including the mother of those beloved grandchildren," Skeeter said sweetly, a fake smile plastered on her face. Lucius took a deep breath. He couldn't give this woman anything worth printing, or she'd embarrass the entire family.

"I'll remind you, Mrs. Skeeter, that this is a private event, and I will not hesitate to use my authority as an Auror to remove you from the property," Draco warned her.

"I apologize, Auror Malfoy, I was simply answering your father's question," she held her hands up defensively. "Now, is there somewhere we may sit for my interview?"

Every moment of that wretched woman's endless line of questioning was exhausting. Even the easy questions sought to expose some sort of scandal. The worst part was that he couldn't even blame her for suspecting some sort of foul play. It had only been a short time ago that he was sick to his stomach about the status of his family line. The only reason Skeeter finally let up on her obtrusive curiosity was because she saw the genuine affection between the children and Lucius. They'd run into the room and immediately jumped into Lucius's lap when Harry brought them over with James. He admired their blue and gold uniforms, and nearly choked when he saw the name "Malfoy" stitched in golden fairy thread on their backs. Scorpius wore Draco's old number 7, and Cassie sported number 12, which he found out belonged to her favorite player, Oliver Blythe, of the Falmouth Falcons.

"Mr. Potter, a few questions please," Skeeter jumped at the opportunity to speak to the dark-haired wizard. All these years later, people still fell down at Potter's feet, but Lucius wouldn't complain about stepping out of this particular spotlight.

The interruption allowed him to slip outside with Narcissa to check on the pitch. It hadn't been too difficult to create. The back of their property had tons of open space, and many people were happy to work for a former Death Eater so long as they were paid handsomely.

"We're so excited for you to see us play!" Cassie exclaimed as she, Scorpius, and James caught up with Lucius and Cissa. "Will you cheer for us? Do you have a special whistle like Grandmother does?" she asked. The Malfoy patriarch looked to his wife, who was blushing. He couldn't imagine her whistling and cheering like some commoner.

"I'm afraid I've never heard your grandmother's special whistle," Lucius answered, unsure of how to respond. He eyed his wife, who wouldn't look at him directly.

"Really? I can hear it no matter where I am on the pitch!" Cassie exclaimed, reaching her little hand for Narcissa's and interlocking their fingers.

"When I hear it, I know I should do my best because Grandmother is watching," Scorpius said proudly. Lucius thought this over. He'd never been one to scream and cheer at any of the Quidditch matches he'd attended. It just wasn't done. It wasn't proper. The times he'd been able to attend Draco's games at Hogwarts, he'd taken notes on the areas his son needed the most improvement. At the professional games, most of his time had been spent networking or making bets, never really following one particular team or player. Draco, however, loved attending games as a boy, but Lucius scolded him whenever he made a spectacle by yelling for his team.

"Scorp, Cass, James, come over here," Potter called from the end of the pitch. "It's time for warm-ups." The little witch and wizards mounted their miniature brooms and headed over to where Draco and Harry stood with a small group of children.

Lucius hardly noticed when the other team showed up as he was mesmerized by his son and Potter running their team through warm-up drills. Before he knew it, the game was about to begin. So lost was he, he hadn't realized that Cissa was no longer sitting near him. There were quite a few spectators, but the stands where he sat were empty save for a blond witch sitting in the front row. It didn't matter. He was only here for one reason, and they were flying toward him smiling and waving frantically when their team was announced.

"Good luck!" Lucius called to the twins as they passed, and Cassie blew him a kiss. The little witch giggled when he caught it and zoomed off. A snicker from behind alerted him that he was on his feet and grinning like an idiot. He hadn't realized anyone else was near him.

Within minutes of the snitch being released, Cassie scored, and Lucius was on his feet clapping wildly. Another chuckle behind him taunted his undignified display of pride. He refused to cower to the person and continued to watch his talented grandchildren. As the game continued, Cassie managed to put three more Quaffles through the hoop, and Scorpius hadn't let the other team score yet. With each of his grandchildren's successful plays, he found himself on his feet again and again. With each of these uncouth displays, the wizard behind him continued to laugh.

"What, pray tell, is so ridiculously funny to you?" Lucius turned around and sneered in the direction of a loud snort. He'd had enough. If this were the only game he'd be able to see, then he'd do it in peace. He was met with silence. It appeared that no one was there until he saw a shift in the air, a classic sign of a Disillusionment Charm. "Show yourself, coward. I want to see the man who mocks me." The wizard in question appeared slowly before him.

"I apologize, Mr. Malfoy. I wasn't laughing at you per se..."

"Theodore Nott," Lucius whispered. He'd watched this boy grow up alongside his own son, but the Dark Lord's return had caused a rift in their close friendship. Nott Senior often used to complain about his heir, wishing he would serve their master properly and take the Mark as Draco had. Apparently, Theo wanted nothing to do with the cause. A wise choice as it had saved him from having to go to trial after the war. "If you aren't laughing at me, why are you laughing at all? And why are you hiding under a disillusionment charm?" Lucius demanded. Theo's face reddened and he cast his eyes toward the ground.

"Well...I -er-"

"Out with it, boy!"

"Yes, well, I was laughing at Draco's shocked expression every time he looks over to find you cheering for his children," he explained with a small smile. "It's like you're some jolly wizard masquerading as Lucius Malfoy under Polyjuice or something, and it's funny to me because of how scared we used to be of you and my dad." He climbed down and sat beside Lucius as he spoke.

"There are certain things in life that will change a man. I'm sure you know that from having your own son," Lucius admitted, pointing to a small boy on the opposing team with brown hair and bright blue eyes as he flew past waving at the blonde witch in their stands. Her body stiffened, and she peeked behind her, staring at Theo with a look of fright.

"He's not...I can't...Marcus Flint is his…" the younger wizard sputtered.

"Surely you cannot be trying to convince me of Flint siring that boy?" Lucius laughed. "He's a Nott through and through. You couldn't deny that boy if you tried! Or did you forget that I knew both you and your father at that age?" Lucius continued to chuckle at Theo's joke until he turned to look at him and saw that he was not laughing. Staring forward with clenched fists and a tightened jaw, the younger wizard ignored the way the blond witch stared back at him with pleading eyes.

"At any rate, Flint claims him," Theo spit through his teeth. Before Lucius could ask any more questions, the flash of Ori's bright blond hair caught his eye, running toward him with Hermione not quite waddling after him as quickly as she could manage. The toddler scrambled up the steps to where Lucius sat and climbed into his lap. By the time Hermione found him, Ori was back to watching the game.

"Orion Rubius Malfoy, how dare you run away from me when I told you to stop!" Hermione scolded the small boy as she gasped for air and held her protruding belly with both hands.

"I sorry, Mum," Ori said innocently, his wide, gray eyes begging forgiveness. He pointed his chubby hand toward Lucius and said, "I sit with him." The proud grandfather beamed, but his smile dropped when he saw the anger still dancing in Hermione's eyes. She took a deep breath before approaching her son.

"Next time, you must ask before leaving Mummy's side," she warned before looking to her father-in-law. "Do you mind if he stays with you to watch while I help Molly and Cissa set up the snacks?"

"Of course, not. I shall enjoy Ori's company very much," he said truthfully.

"Thank you," she bent down to kiss the top of her son's curly head and marched away. Had it not been for the Quaffle-sized baby bump, it was hard to tell she was seven months pregnant from behind.

"Who is your name?" Ori asked, turning to Theo. The older wizard smiled down at him.

"I'm Theo; I used to be best mates with your dad," he said reaching out his hand toward the boy.

"My name is Ori," he announced as he wrapped both of his chubby hands around Theo's larger one. Suddenly, the tiny wizard reached up and carefully placed his fingers on Theo's temples, bowing his head. The Slytherin jumped at his touch, but Ori held him firmly in place for a moment. When he finally looked up, his eyes were full of concern and sadness. "You need family? You alone?"

"What? How do you…," Theo trailed off as he stared back at the boy. "How could you possibly know that?" he whispered in disbelief. Without answering, Ori crawled into Theo's lap and hugged him tightly much as he had with his grandfather the first time they'd met. Unsure of what to make of this child, the dark-haired wizard gaped at Lucius in question, holding his arms up high in surrender.

"It's okay, Mr. Theo," Ori soothed. A single tear slipped down the Slytherin's cheek as he lowered his arms and finally embraced the child fully. Lucius followed his gaze to where the blond witch sat with red-rimmed eyes locked on Theo. The tension was thick though Lucius was unsure of the reasoning.

Ori sat between Lucius and Theo, holding both of their hands as if he tethered them to this life. They watched the rest of the match without speaking save for the proud cheers of a grandfather and a little brother, especially when James caught the snitch at the end to win the game.

"Let's go!" Marcus Flint demanded as he stormed over to the stands, roughly dragging the miniature Theo child behind him. Apparently, he was the coach of the opposing team, donned in black and green to match his players' Quidditch robes. The blond witch popped up from her seat without delay.

"Hello, Mr. Nott," the boy waved happily. Flint's eyes trailed up to where Theo sat and he pinned him with a glare.

"Nott, what are you doing here? You have no children playing in this match," Flint sneered, pointing accusingly at Theo. Lucius had known both the Flint and Nott families his entire life, and there was no way that the child struggling to escape the angry wizard holding on to him was a Flint. He'd bet his life on it.

"There is no quarrel here, Mr. Flint. I invited Mr. Nott as my personal guest," Lucius lied. Something about Flint's body language told him that his words would somehow protect the boy and the blond witch, who he assumed was the mother of this child. Marcus let the miniature Nott's hand go, ignoring the way the boy grasped for the witch and found shelter behind her leg.

"Mr. Malfoy, I hardly recognized you with your trimmed hair," Flint said, his whole demeanor changing into the well-mannered disposition of a polite aristocrat.

"Well, it was time for a change I suppose," Lucius answered. "Speaking of change, I presume this lovely witch is your wife?" he said, gesturing toward the woman beside him.

"You are correct. May I present Mrs. Astoria Flint, née Greengrass," he shot Theo a sharp glare as his wife gave Lucius a half-hearted smile. "Actually, you've met her. I believe she was promised to Draco at one time. Once her parents found out he was soul-bound, they wanted to find her a suitable match," he said with another poignant look towards Nott.

"How many wizards did they go through before finally landing on a Flint?" Lucius said lightly, though he wasn't joking. For all their pureblooded manners and etiquette in public, the Flint men were known to have irrational tempers, especially with those closest to them. How desperate were the Greengrasses to marry their youngest daughter off to Marcus? Now that he had a chance to have a look at her, she looked unwell. She was thin and looked slightly haggard, no longer the bright girl from before the war when they'd begun discussing marital contracts.

"I suppose she could have done much worse," Marcus eyed Theo again before turning back to Lucius. "I know things were different before you...disappeared, but her parents were wise to choose a pureblooded family that hadn't been so closely tied to the Dark Lord."

"As they say, desperate times call for desperate measures," Lucius replied with what he hoped came across as mirth. Though this pompous man needed to rightly be put in his place, now wasn't the time.

"The Malfoys should know, shouldn't they?" the trollish-looking wizard chuckled. "I'd have loved to have seen your face when you found out Draco went and fell in love with the queen of mud herself!" he laughed heartily. All Lucius could see was red. The gall of this man. How dare he insult Lucius's family? His magic crackled on the surface of his skin. As Ori tightly wrapped his arms around his grandfather's leg, Lucius's anger started to subside. It was enough to remind him that what he lost was nothing compared to what he'd gained.

"Marcus, please…" Astoria quietly pleaded, but he shot her a look that silenced her immediately.

"It's alright, Ms. Greengrass," Lucius had called the witch by her maiden name as a petty slight to Flint. "Understandably, most of the wizarding world has wondered the very same about the moment I heard the news of my son's nuptials. I'm embarrassed to say that it was exactly as everyone imagined it would be." He picked up his grandson and kissed the top of his curly blond head. "If I'm honest, I couldn't care less about such things anymore." As if on cue, Cassie and Scorpius came sprinting across the pitch toward the group of Slytherins.

"Grandfather, did you see us?" Scorpius yelled as they made their way up the stands to hug Lucius. Theo stepped out of their way, but the older wizard reached out a hand to stop him from leaving. He bent down to the twins' level.

"Didn't you hear Ori and me cheering for you the whole time? Of course, we were so proud of both of you," Lucius grinned proudly at his grandchildren, unaware of the astonished expressions of the three adults surrounding him staring at the scene before them.

"We must be going now, but we thank you for hosting the game this week. Wonderful to see you again, Lucius," Marcus said shortly, snapping at Astoria to follow him as he walked away. The blond witch scooped her son into her arms with a longing glance toward Theo. The little boy waved sadly from over his mum's shoulder, the melancholy woman struggling to keep up with her husband's long strides.

"Shall we go see what sort of treats Grammy Molly made for us today?" Lucius asked knowingly. The children answered with a chorus of cheers. They skipped and twirled around the two Slytherin wizards as they made their way to the small crowd forming around the spread of treats the Weasley matriarch had provided.

"Thank you for pretending to invite me, but I should go," Theo hesitated.

"No. You should tell me how the bloody hell you lost your son and your witch to that awful git."

"According to her father, I had nothing to offer after the war. We were in love, but he thought my name would ruin her...Even as he rots in Azkaban, my father still managed to somehow make sure I'd never find happiness," he sighed sadly.

"Does Flint really believe that boy could possibly be his son?" Lucius inquired.

"At first she'd tried to make things work with him, and I respected her wishes to stay away. I told her I'd wait forever if that's what it took. After only a few weeks, his cruelness became too much and she was lonely. I took her back with open arms, but their marriage contract was antiquated and ironclad to boot. You know how these things are; she legally has no say in ending their marriage" Theo explained with the heaviness of hopelessness. "Her father won't allow it, especially now that there is an heir. They'd been married a year or so when Astoria became pregnant with Christopher. We knew he was mine from the start because she always secretly uses a contraceptive charm whenever he forces himself on her. He's a vindictive bastard. Even if she tries to leave, he retains all rights to our child, and we'd never see Christopher again. Nothing can be done."

"If you want something badly enough, something can always be done," Lucius assured the younger wizard with a wink.

* * *

**_April 9, 2008_ **

_ Draco, _

_ I write to you as a desperate man seeking your help. I know I was a shite friend at a time in your life when you needed me most, and for that I am sorry. Because I allowed this rift between us to grow, you're still stuck with Blaise sodding Zabini as a best mate along with a pride of Gryffindors. For this, no apology can fix the variety of ways I have failed you. That being said, I need you more than ever. (And by "you", I mean your bloody brilliant wife) If it helps, I did reject all of the blood purity rubbish before you, so at least you know I approve of your brood of half-blood heirs. _

_ The only way I can illustrate my level of desperation is to tell you that I actually confided in your father. As amiable as this new version of Lucius Malfoy may be, we both know it's fucking mad to discuss one's feelings with him. (He's still fucking scary as fuck. I felt like a little kid again when I spoke to him) From what I've managed to observe over the past few years, you're not as much of a wanker as you used to be. Please help me. _

_ Your worst friend, _

_ Theo _

* * *

**_April 10, 2008_ **

_ Theo, _

_ It's about time I heard from you. Zabini and I were starting to wonder how long you'd keep yourself as a bloody prisoner in Nott Manor before finally reaching out to us. Although you were a right shite friend when I needed you most, I've never held it against you. We were all just trying to survive back then. The one error I shall never forgive is you leaving me to babysit Blaise on my own through his wildest years. He's lucky I made an ally of Harry Potter and became an Auror to keep him out of Azkaban all these years. _

_ My father did inform us of your situation and nothing would give me greater pleasure than taking Flint down a peg or two, especially since he tried to insult my family. You'll be pleased to know that my wife is quite happy to have another charity case on her hands. She's already taken the liberty of beginning to dissect the Flint/Greengrass marital contract and has a list of questions for both you and Astoria. _

_ Believe it or not, I've actually missed you. From what my father told me, you sounded like a whiny hag when he talked to you, so I was relieved that your usual flair for sarcasm still exists. We could always use another snake in the lion's den. Meet us at the Leaky Cauldron this Friday. It couldn't hurt you to add some Gryffindor friends to your life. I don't know where I'd be without a few of them helping me along the way. _

_ Your best-looking friend, _

_ Draco _

_ P.S. - Blaise wanted me to inform you that he will murder you in your sleep if you think you can take his place as my best mate. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always imagine Astoria to be blond, so I apologize if you prefer her to be brunette. What do you think of the addition of Theo to the story?
> 
> I won't make any promises on the next time I will post because I have missed my own deadline three times. All I can say is that I want to post ASAP. Real life and a bank of quality fanfics have prevented me from posting sooner.
> 
> I don't know the author of Remain Nameless, but it was AWESOME! If you haven't read it yet, read it while you wait on my next update.


	12. Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of the kind reviewers that have been understanding about my slowed timetable! I got a little stuck on this chapter. Even though I've pictured it from the beginning, I still had to work the new Theo/Astoria storyline into it. Enjoy this addition, and I promise I will update a lot sooner than the previous five chapters.

**Chapter 12: Unexpected - April 25, 2008**

“How the bloody hell do you go through life only having sex about once a month?” George shuddered, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Theo’s mouth dropped open in shock. He shook his head and turned to Draco, who was chuckling into his drink. With three Slytherins always vying to buy the next round for the sake of showmanship, the entire table stayed good and pissed on Friday nights at the Leaky Cauldron since Theo joined the group two weeks ago. 

“Of everything I’ve told you, that was your takeaway?” Theo asked incredulously. 

“Welcome to friendship with Gryffindors,” Blaise said offhandedly before clapping his old mate on the back. “They have no boundaries and tend to miss the point on most occasions.”

“How do they decide which pureblood family is worse?” Harry wondered quietly as he spoke into his drink. Blaise gestured toward the dark-haired wizard, emphasizing to Theo how the Gryffindor proved his point. “What do they care if she marries a Nott over a Flint?”

“Potter, what don’t you understand? My dad was almost as high as Lucius within the Death Eater ranks. The Greengrasses didn’t want their daughter associated with my stained family name,” Theo explained, exasperated by this group of drunken wizards. 

“All I’m saying is that I’d marry you over that Flint prat,” Harry slurred, pointing his finger just to the left of where the dark-haired Slytherin sat. Theo threw up his hands as if he were surrendering to the stupidity of the conversation.

“Of course you’d marry me over him! I’m like a taller, good-looking version of you with manageable hair!” Theo exclaimed, holding up his glass in a toast.

“I’ll drink to that!” Draco clinked his nearly-empty snifter with Theo’s raised glass. 

“Wait...what are you drinking to, Malfoy?” Ron slurred. “Harry being uglier than Nott or Nott being better than Flint?” 

“I’m ugly?”

“No, Harry. You’re the most fit looking Chosen One I’ve ever seen,” George said as he handed the bespeckled wizard another drink. 

“Why was Flint such a tosser if he wasn’t a Death Eater?” Ron wondered, tipping back his empty glass and staring at it in confusion. 

“You know, not all Slytherins were Death Eaters…” Draco murmured, absently rubbing his left forearm where his Mark used to be. “Some were just waiting on the final outcome to choose their allegiances, the Flint family included, so they would always end up on the winning side,” he explained. Though the sins of his past had long been forgiven by this group, discussing them was always sobering for the blond-haired wizard. 

“Dark times aside, I appreciate you lot for allowing me to whine about my life for a bit,” Theo said.

“Was that whining? You obviously haven’t been around Blaise’s dramatics in awhile,” Draco chuckled as the rest of the group laughed at the Italian wizard’s stunned expression. 

“That’s fine, gentlemen. I was waiting for Theo to end his senseless, little pity party anyway. Luna already wants to start trying to have children, but I told her that we should wait because all of you make it sound absolutely awful,” Blaise responded haughtily. 

“Senseless?” Theo challenged, leaning toward the Italian wizard angrily.

“You told your  _ wife _ , who is good friends with  _ our _ wives, that we make children sound awful, you bloody twit!” Ron exclaimed as he swallowed hard. He’d certainly pay for it if word of their Friday night gripes made their way back to Pansy. 

“Senseless, yes. Hermione fucking Granger is-”

“ _ Malfoy _ ,” Draco corrected. 

“When she’s saving the world, it’s  _ Granger _ ,” Blaise rolled his eyes and ignored Draco’s arms folded across his chest and bitter sneer. “As I was saying, Hermione fucking  _ Granger _ is looking into your case, which means it is as good as solved. This time next year, you’ll even have the chance to have an actual  _ legitimate _ child and claim your son as your own.” At the mention of his possible future, Theo smiled. For the first time since reuniting with his old schoolmates, he actually looked hopeful. 

“I hate to agree with this areshole, but she’s even meeting with my father next weekend to gain some insight on pureblood marital contracts that she can’t find in her books. Between the two of them, Astoria will be freed from Flint as soon as possible,” Draco assured his friend.

“Is no one else concerned that Blaise has blabbed to his wife about everything we say here?” Ron asked in frustration. 

“Oh, shut it, Weasley!” the Italian wizard laughed. “I didn’t tell her anything, you git. I just wanted you to know how much power I hold over you wankers next time you decide to complain about my whining!” 

* * *

**May 3, 2008**

After a late night with the boys, Draco gratefully slid into bed next to the nest of pillows that surrounded his wife. Theo was enraged earlier in the day when Astoria turned up on his doorstep crying and attempting to glamour a bruise on her cheek. The group of wizards spent the whole night talking him out of murdering Flint and discussing a  _ legal  _ way to deal with the situation. The witch swore that Marcus hadn’t done it on purpose, but Theo was desperate to have her and his son out of Flint’s grasp regardless of whether it was an accident or not. At least Hermione finally had time to meet with Lucius this weekend, and Draco had no doubt that the two would have this problem solved quickly. 

As if his witch sensed his presence, she immediately burrowed her back into Draco’s chest, and her bum nestled against his groin. For a few minutes, he just allowed their magic to blend together. His large hand caressed the swell of his wife’s belly, and the boy, who was due early next month, immediately pressed himself into Draco’s touch. He smiled, pressing his fingers down one-by-one as his son responded with a nudge to each movement. After some time, he drifted off to sleep while playing with his little unborn wizard. 

* * *

“More...Draco, more... _ please _ ,” Hermione moaned. The sound of her seductive voice laced its way through his dreamless sleep. Her soft sighs snapped him back to reality. A reality where the sun painted the walls of the bedroom with the lazy orange glow of early morning and his fingers were already exploring the wet folds beneath his wife’s knickers. 

“You’ll have to wake me first, love,” he whispered with a grin as she stilled her rolling hips. When he felt her wiggling away, he thought he’d angered her. Usually in this type of situation, he’d have to give her a few minutes before attempting to make a move to fix his blunder. It’d be worth it to bide his time. Suddenly, he was on his back, and Hermione was straddling him 

“I’ll wake you up alright,” she insisted with determination. Somehow, the witch had managed to remove her clothing and ripped his boxer briefs off in some sort of movement he couldn’t even begin to comprehend at this early hour. She stayed poised above him, waiting for him to look her in the eyes before sinking down on his hardened cock. Merlin, she was beautiful. Draco began reaching for her hips, but she swatted his hands away. As she rode him, her fingers drifted down her body from her peaked nipples to her cunt, a smirk on her lips.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned as he brought his arms behind his head. Watching her at this moment was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen. “Merlin, you’re perfect, love,” he praised her. “Show me how many times you can come on my dick,” Draco growled. His voice spurred her on. Hermione’s eyes began rolling back in her head, and her breathing came hard and fast. Just as she was about to fall over the edge and scream his name, the voice of Harry fucking Potter filled the sacred space of their bedroom. 

“Malfoy, come quickly,” the glowing stag demanded, mocking the very act its mere presence had interrupted, “There’s been another incident with cursed Squibs! We need you now! Meet me in my office immediately!” 

The couple stared at one another in shock momentarily before Draco jumped into action. 

“I’m so sorry, love!” he told Hermione as he gently rolled her back to the bed and regrettably slipped out of her. “It must be something terrible if he’s sent his Patronus,” he muttered to himself. Potter despised having to interrupt Aurors in their off time. He only did it in an emergency as he had done with the previous three cases involving the cursed Squib children.

“No need to apologize to me, but you’d better find a way to punish Harry for me,” Hermione said, offering a sad smile. “I just hope the child is alright,” she worried her lower lip as Draco was out of bed and digging through his drawers for clean clothes. Luckily, he always showered and took a Pepper-Up Potion before he fell into bed on pub nights with the boys. He crashed through his morning routine before swooping back to the bed and kissing his wife goodbye. 

“Obviously, I’ll make this up to you tonight or whenever I am able to come home,” Draco said, placing a chaste kiss on Hermione’s forehead and stroking her cheek. She nodded in understanding. He grabbed his wand off the night table and stood to Apparate. “Of course, I’ll make sure Potter pays for his awful timing too,” he smirked at her before he disappeared from their room. The last thing he saw as he left for the Auror Apparition point was Hermione throwing a pillow in his direction with a laugh or grimace, he couldn’t be sure which one. 

The scene that met him when he entered the Auror office was pure chaos. It seemed like most of the department was scrambling through the workspace searching for answers. What had he missed? 

* * *

“Why can’t we stay with you and Grandfather?” Cassie whined as they readied themselves to Floo over to the Manor. 

“I already explained to you that he and I are working on a project to help Mr. Theo-”

“Mr. Theo needs help,” Ori added, hugging his mum’s leg as if she were doing him some sort of favor. 

“Yes. he does, darling,” Hermione panted as a dull ache suddenly throbbed in her lower back. It was the same kind of pain she felt just as Draco left this morning. She breathed through it. Turning back to Ori, she stroked her fingers through his curls, gently rubbing her thumb across his cheek as he watched her with his concerned grey eyes. 

Her youngest son’s unprecedented magic always piqued her curiosity. Every time he did something to surprise them, which was often, she and Draco would speak to Dumbledore’s portrait. The former Headmaster found Ori’s incident with Theo especially interesting. He informed them that only a child conceived by the purest love could bear such gifts. At that comment, Hermione had to squeeze Draco’s knee to keep him from snickering like an immature schoolboy. When they’d finished speaking with Dumbledore’s portrait, she laughed in spite of herself along with her husband the whole walk back to the Apparition point. Although she was mature enough to hear the word “conceive” from a former professor’s mouth, it always warmed her heart to know that Draco could still find humor in such things. It was no wonder he got on so well with Harry, Ron, and George. 

“Can we spend time with Grandfather when we’re done watching the play with Grammy Molly and Grandmother?” Scorpius asked politely, pulling his mum from her thoughts. 

“We’ll see,” Hermione answered as she poured Floo Powder into Cassie and Scorp’s waiting hands. As they stepped through to the Manor, Cissa was waiting for them with a smile. 

“Lucius is in his study. He spent all night pulling various marriage law and marital contract texts from the library and... _ other _ places,” the blond witch trailed off. It was no surprise that her father-in-law would have hidden texts throughout the family home. Even though the Ministry had done a thorough sweep of the mansion, there were still hiding spots protected by blood magic. Draco hadn’t lived here since before the war ended, but he had found a few harmless books and trinkets his father deemed necessary to hide. He simply assumed they were heirlooms and Hermione refused to allow him to destroy any texts no matter how unsavory the subject-matter might be.

“Thank you, Cissa. I have a few ideas, but I’m so unfamiliar with these sorts of things,” Hermione explained, feeling quite deflated at her inability to solve the problem on her own. 

“I’m under the impression that the situation has become dire. The Notts are a prideful family, and I’m sure it took a lot for Theo to ask for help,” Narcissa said sadly. “You’ve no idea how wonderful it is for Lucius to feel... _ useful _ in this situation. Honestly, he’s a bit nervous about letting you down.”

“Letting  _ me  _ down?” the curly-haired witch asked. Even though she’d been able to get along with Lucius these past few months, she was under no impression that he cared what she thought of him. 

“Believe it or not, he’s come to respect you, Hermione. As much as he’d love to fix this situation for Mr. Nott, he’d also like to prove to you that he can be useful even if his particular fountain of knowledge is within the scope of things we’d like to change about our world,” Narcissa smiled at her son’s wife. 

“Thank you. That does mean something to me.”

“Hello!” Mrs. Weasley stepped through the Floo cheerily. “Who is looking forward to a lovely afternoon at the theatre?” she asked, turning toward the children. “I haven’t been since I was a little girl, and I’m so looking forward to it,” she prattled on as Cassie, Scorp, and Ori embraced her. 

“Oh, Molly, that can’t be true,” Narcissa declared. “I’ll have to have a word with Arthur if he’s slipping in the romance department,” she warned playfully, giving her friend a warm hug.

“Thank Merlin you’re still here. I thought we might have missed you,” Andromeda burst through the Floo in a rush. “Do you have room for two more?” she asked as Teddy stumbled in after her.

“Of course, we do. What a delightful surprise!” Molly exclaimed. 

“When Cissy told me about your outing last night, I didn’t think Teddy would be interested…”

Everything seemed to disappear for Hermione as the older witches discussed their plans with the children for the day. A strong surge of pain began to radiate in her lower back and seemed to slowly roll through her entire body. Perhaps she’d make an appointment with the Healer once she was finished with Lucius. 

_ Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in… _

“Are you alright, dear?” Molly asked cautiously. It took a moment for Hermione to realize the Weasley matriarch was directing the question at her. 

“Yes.”  _ Breathe out.  _ “I’m fine, really.”  _ Breathe in. _

“Maybe we should stay,” Cissa sounded concerned. 

“Grandmother, no. We’ve been looking forward to seeing a wizarding play for so long. Please take us,” Cassie begged.

“Please don’t miss anything on my account. It’s just a few false labor pains,” Hermione assured them. They stared back at her with three expressions full of motherly concern. “If it makes you feel better, I can Floo right over to St Mungo’s right after my meeting with Lucius.” The three witches still seemed torn. “Go! Please!”

“Alright, alright, but you better have my husband owl us immediately if something happens,” Narcissa warned her daughter-in-law. “My son will have all of our wands if he finds out we left you in any state of discomfort.”

“I’ll deal with Draco. Just go and enjoy your afternoon,” Hermione said while shooing the group away. After they finally agreed to leave, she waddled her way down the corridor toward her father-in-law’s study.

* * *

A few words came to mind when Lucius thought of Hermione, but the main word he would use to describe her would be stubborn. For the nearly-lost-cause of Theodore Nott and Astoria Greengrass, this trait would be considered a positive thing. From the moment the determined witch entered his study armed with her long list of questions, she’d been sure they’d find the loophole in the Flint/Greengrass marital contract. 

As he read through the seemingly ironclad paperwork, he reviewed Hermione’s detailed notes. She waited patiently for him to finish before she began her barrage of questions. Lucius felt like he was on trial with the Wizengamot again, only this time, the consequences affected others instead of himself. He felt a sense of duty to both Theo, a boy he’d known since birth, and Astoria, a girl he’d once considered for his own son. Perhaps helping these two innocent victims of the war could help him earn back some of Draco’s respect. 

“Would a DNA test proving Theo’s parentage void Flint’s rights to the child?” Hermione asked, checking off each question as she moved down her list. Lucius didn’t know what a DNA test was. He felt silly. Already failing. The sharp witch caught his brief look of confusion. “DNA is one’s genetic code. I won’t get too far into the science behind it, but it’s a test Muggles use to determine paternity with children,” she explained.  _ Muggles could determine parentage by some sort of genetic code? Fascinating. _

“I’ve never heard of such a case among purebloods. It would be assumed that the husband would always be the father,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Because clauses stipulating the rules for taking a mistress only apply to men,” he answered. A look of disgust crossed her features. 

“Is there some sort of charm or curse to prevent a witch from cheating on her spouse?”

“Of course, not. A pureblood witch wouldn’t need such a barbaric measure in place to prevent her from going astray,” he replied. In all of his years turning his nose down at others, Lucius had never felt the sting of someone returning the condescending facial expression. 

“Astoria is pureblood and has been cheating on Marcus for years. You, yourself said there is no way Christopher could be a Flint…” she trailed off waiting for him to catch on as if he were daft. Lucius stared back at her, his previous statement about pureblooded witches mocking him. He nodded once to signify he finally caught up.

“You’re correct. I...apologize. Please blame my lifetime of pureblood indoctrination for my biased assumptions. To answer your original question, I’ve never heard of a case like this where parentage was proven.”

“What is a blood curse clause?” the curly-haired witch continued as if Lucius hadn’t said anything offensive. 

“Yes, that. We really dodged an Avada on that one. The Greengrass family is said to have a blood curse in their line, so it allows the wizard to leave the witch after the first heir is born and marry another. Without it, she could die at any time, and the wizard would be stuck as a bachelor the rest of his life or forfeit the witch’s dowry,” he explained. “That’s probably why Nott Senior refused the Greengrass sisters for Theo from the start. If I’d known about it, I would have included the clause in Draco and Astoria’s contract all those years ago,” he said off-handedly. The guilt hit him immediately. Hermione’s skin paled as a grimace twisted its way from her mouth to her pained eyes.  _ Had Draco not told his wife that he was once betrothed? _ She braced herself against the desk and gulped in long deep breaths for a few moments. When she finally sat back down, she offered him a placid smile and continued her questions.

“Is it normal that Astoria hadn’t signed any part of the contract?”

“An underage witch’s father would sign for her.”

“She only gets a choice if she is of age?” she challenged forcefully. When she phrased it like that, the whole arrangement seemed somewhat cruel. Growing up, it never seemed like a choice for the witch or wizard. The parents arranged everything, and good pureblooded children obeyed their parents’ wishes. Lucius couldn’t bring himself to look Hermione in the eye when he gave her an apprehensive nod to answer her question. She was silent for a moment. “Was she of age when this contract was signed?”

“I’m not sure exactly. We could check the document I have for her and Draco’s arrangement, I suppose,” he replied apprehensively. 

“You still have it,” she whispered, pain stealing the soft features of her face. “Why?”

“Please believe me; I have no ill will toward you, Hermione. It only just occurred to me that I still have it because it might aid us in solving Theo’s problems,” he pleaded with the witch. The gears of her brain were turning, and Lucius was ashamed to lose her trust so quickly. “That contract became invalid the moment you and my son completed your bond...not that I would try to invoke that doomed betrothal after...everything,” he tried to assure her. 

“Thank...you,...Lucius....I...believe...you,” she panted through deep inhales of breath and her eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you well, Hermione?” he asked, concerned at the grip his daughter-in-law had on his desk. Waving him off, she nodded too readily. “Shall we get some fresh air? Can I persuade you to take a turn with me in the gardens?”

“That would be lovely,” she answered weakly.

As they made their way out to the magnificent Malfoy gardens, Cissy’s pride and joy, Lucius had to slow his stride to match the petite witch, burdened greatly by her condition. He offered his arm, which she gripped tightly. They walked in silence at first, taking in the spring bouquets around them. 

“The baby...he’s moving quite a bit today,” she said through tiny, rushed breaths. Lucius peered down at her swollen belly and smiled. It delighted him to know this would be the first grandchild to know him from birth. 

“May I?” the blond wizard asked, reaching his free hand toward her. He’d been longing to feel the baby move but felt awkward asking before now. Something about the way Hermione clung to him made him feel like it might be okay. 

“Of course,” she smiled, guiding his large hand to the spot where the baby was actively undulating beneath her skin. 

Lucius gasped as her stomach rolled gracefully toward him, nudging his palm. Raw emotions gripped his heart, and tears sprung to his eyes. He looked up to her gleefully. That’s when he noticed that something was very wrong. Her skin had paled, her grip had tightened, and the agony in her eyes alerted him to the fact that he must do something to help her. Suddenly, she fell against him.

“Hermione!” he yelled. She didn’t respond. He looked around frantically. What could he do? Lucius had no wand and no access to the Floo. Scooping her up, he cradled her in his arms. There was a small spot of blood seeping through her Muggle jeans. Merlin, this was terribly wrong. 

Without another thought, he ran as quickly as he could toward the closest property line, about 400 meters or so just beyond the garden wall. Lucius hadn’t run like this since he was a boy. His lungs couldn’t take in enough air and his heart was beating its way up through his throat. It didn’t matter. He had to save her. Save his grandson. For the first time in his life, Lucius abandoned self-preservation and crossed over the invisible barrier that had imprisoned him these last few months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this little cliffy. You already know I have a hard time with bad things happening to our favorite couple. This WILL have a HAPPY ending. I will post the update as soon as it is finished. (Hopefully by the weekend)


	13. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about leaving you on a cliff during the last chapter! I updated as soon as I could!

**Chapter 13: New Beginnings - May 3, 2008**

“We think we might know how the bloke is getting the cursed objects into stores, but it’s still a mystery how only Squib children are finding them,” Harry explained to Draco as the blond wizard worked meticulously on disarming the latest evidence in the wretched case they’d been working on for months. 

“Please do keep up your incessant chatter, Potter. You know how I love to be distracted when I work with deadly items,” the surly Slytherin replied. 

“I can’t believe this Dark wizard attempted to pass one of his blasted toys through Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. George offered up his memory of the transaction, so that should help us find him,” Harry continued as if Draco had said nothing.

“Funny, I didn’t ask,” Draco gritted out as the cursed Screaming Yo-yo began to shake, a thick green mist emanating from its core.

“If we could retrieve the memories of all the store clerks that sold the cursed toys, we’d have a better chance at finding this guy,” Harry went on, unperturbed by his proximity to the danger. 

“The-boy-who-survived-Voldemort-twice-only-to-die-by-a-cursed-yo-yo doesn’t quite have the ring to it you might think,” Draco panted while beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. The toy began to spin, faster and faster, rising up from the place where Malfoy had it stabilized.

“George was the only one who noticed that his store didn’t even sell the objects this suspicious wizard was trying to return if you can believe that. How do you give a refund on something that isn’t even part of your merchandise?” Harry wondered idly, ducking just in time as the Yo-yo swooped toward his head. A black inky substance started to explode out of the toy but was suspended midair with a flick of Draco’s wand. Harry finally looked up in surprise. “You look like you just kissed a Dementor. What’s your problem?” 

“I just saved your fucking life is my problem. That nasty curse could have killed us both, you wanker!” the blond exclaimed. 

“You save my life all the bloody time and hardly break into a sweat. It’s something else,” he tilted his head, staring through Draco as if trying to read the depths of his soul. The Slytherin turned away and shook his head.

“You think you know me so well-”

“I  _ do _ know you so well,” Harry countered. “You love making this stuff look easy, but you’re already exhausted. We still have two more of these things to neutralize, and-

“ _ We _ ?”

“Yes, ‘ _ we _ ’! Complain all you like, but having me around to bother you helps you think, and it helps me organize my thoughts to solve all these cases,” Harry smirked, knowing he was right. “Now quit wasting time and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Alright, you bloody know-it-all, I’m having a hard time concentrating because I keep feeling Hermione. Her emotions are all over the place, but a bit of pain keeps surfacing. This happened before when she was pregnant with the twins, so I shouldn’t be as worried as I am,...but something feels different this time,” Draco explained, feeling a bit better voicing his fears. Potter always let him know if he was overreacting or not.

“Let’s move to the next site, and as soon as I can find someone competent enough to take over dismantling these curses, you can go check on her to be sure,” Harry suggested hesitantly. He wasn’t the type of man to overanalyze his actions, but Draco could see that the Gryffindor was somewhat torn. Against his better judgment, he agreed to move on to the next crime scene. 

Their entire morning and early afternoon had already been thrown into chaos, so he chalked up some of his apprehension to the heavy burden of dealing with this case. Instead of one Squib child stumbling upon a cursed object, there were seven. He couldn’t even think about what condition they might be in right now, but it gutted him that one little boy was dead on arrival. With each new case that popped up, the curses grew stronger. Whoever was behind this was skilled. It made Draco wonder where they’d been trained to have a skill-level that rivaled the Auror Curse-Breaker office. 

“Are you going to get started or just stare at it all day?” Harry asked once they’d arrived on the next scene. 

“If you must know, there is something particularly dark about this one,” Draco replied, pointing at the stuffed dragon. The Gryffindor momentarily closed his eyes and absently rubbed his scar. He often did this when one of his gut feelings took over. 

Under the normal protocol, the field Aurors would bring back the cursed objects in special magical-containment cases for transport designed by the Ministry, and the curse-breakers could do their job in the safety of their lab. This case wasn’t normal. They’d dispatched Draco and the lead curse-breaker to the field to neutralize the threats. In case today’s mayhem was a distraction to spread the office too thin to deal with a larger problem, everyone else on the curse-breaking team was on standby. 

“Eat this,” Harry handed Draco a piece of chocolate. “You’ll need it for this one.” The blond wizard ate the candy as if it were his last meal and gulped down a liter of water. 

“It’ll be your fault when I need to use the loo in the middle of all this,” Draco smiled. 

“Excellent. I can’t wait to tell the boys about the time Malfoy pissed himself on the job! With any luck, Skeeter is hanging around the scene to make sure your picture makes the front page of the  _ Prophet, _ ” the dark-haired wizard laughed.

“Former Death Eater Drains His Lizard on Toy Dragon,” the Slytherin pretended to be scandalized by the imaginary headline. With a flick of his wand, he set to work. Harry laughed, a temporary reprieve from the danger of their current situation. 

“Dragon versus Dragon in Pissing Match,” Harry countered as he walked around the scene and set up protective wards.

“Former Death Eater Pisses Excellence on the Job,” Draco replied after a few minutes of silence. 

All of a sudden, all hell broke loose. The smirk emblazoned on the blond wizard’s face morphed into a grimace of pain just as the cursed dragon began pulsing violently.   
“Malfoy?” Harry shouted. “Are you alright?”

“Find her, Potter. Now!” Draco commanded desperately, his eyes wide with terror. 

The toy ripped at the seams spilling an ominous green light into the small space where they worked. Years of intense training under pressure kicked in as both Aurors dropped to the ground, barely escaping death. The Slytherin stood and pointed his wand and muttered incantation after incantation to control the chaos ensuing around them. 

“I’ll find her and send you backup as soon as I can!” Harry yelled over the high pitch whistling the Dark object emitted. Draco didn’t acknowledge him. It took everything he had to concentrate on the act of subduing the curses exploding from the dragon while attempting to ignore the pain he felt from his shared bond with Hermione. As much as it killed him, he had to trust Potter to help her until another competent curse-breaker could help him. “Fuck! Not fucking now!” he heard Harry grit out just before the familiar pop of Apparition. 

* * *

“HELP!” Lucius choked out, still exhausted from his sprint when he saw three figures in black Auror robes appear a few meters away from him. Thank Merlin, Potter was one of them. Of course, he should have expected to be met with angry glares, but the realization of how much trouble he’d actually be in suddenly dawned on him. He hadn’t even said goodbye to Narcissa before they would take him back to Azkaban. The thought of being away from her again almost broke him. “I think the baby is coming early!” he gasped as Potter realized Lucius held Hermione in his weak arms. The bespeckled Auror quickly assessed the situation though the others had not. 

“Are you behind all of this?” one of the other wizards demanded from his place behind Harry, who held up a hand to silence the lower ranking Auror. Lucius recognized him as the taller of the two wizards who brought him home after his time in Azkaban. 

“Davidson, owl Rivers and Wilson and inform them they must relieve Malfoy immediately at crime scene four,” Potter instructed the younger wizard. “Williams, go directly to Malfoy and make sure you bring him plenty of chocolate and water. Tell him I’ve found his wife. Once he’s briefed his replacements, bring him to St. Mungo’s. He’ll be too weak to get there on his own.”

“Yes, Sir,” the two Aurors barked before Disapparating. 

Potter grabbed ahold of Lucius’s arm, and they landed in St. Mungo’s where Harry dropped his Chosen One status on anyone who would listen to get Hermione the help she needed. Their hero status was far from expired, and the team of Healers ready to help hardly noticed the reformed Death Eater among them. 

In the blink of an eye, they’d rushed her to their maternity ward with Lucius and Potter following closely in the Healers’ wake. Harry's hand gripped the elder Malfoy’s shoulder, steadying him in their place against the wall and out of the way. It was difficult to discern who was comforting who as they waited with bated breath. At that moment, they needed one another. Lucius stood ridged with his hands clasped. Worry gripped his heart while he wondered if they’d made it in time to save Hermione and his grandson? 

Finally, a collective sigh of relief filled the room when the sound of two heartbeats danced through the ears of the Healers and the two anxious wizards clinging to hope. Hermione’s eyes opened abruptly and she gasped for air. It’d only been a few minutes from the time she’d fallen into Lucius’s arms until this moment, but it felt like a lifetime. Harry’s grip tightened on the older wizard’s shoulder as a sob escaped his lips. 

“Mrs. Malfoy, my name is Healer Edwards. I know you must be confused right now, but I need your help. You’ve gone into preterm labor, and we have to deliver your baby directly or he could-”

“Save him, now!” the witch exclaimed, sounding brave in spite of her weakened condition. Temporary relief crossed her face when she caught a glimpse of the unlikely pair braced against the wall. “Where’s Draco?” her voice caught on her husband’s name. 

“He’s on his way,” Harry assured her. “We’re here,” he soothed, gesturing between himself and Lucius. The blond wizard nodded, unsure if she wanted him in the room or not. He’d never seen a birth before. When it was Cissy’s time to deliver their son, the Dark Lord called him away. It was a power move, but at the time, it seemed Lucius had no choice but to follow orders. 

“Would you like us to stay?” Lucius asked cautiously. Hermione nodded and reached out her hands toward them. They exchanged a glance and a firm nod before crossing the small hospital room to be by her side. 

“Alright, Mrs. Malfoy, we’re just about ready. When I tell you to push, you’ll bear down for about ten seconds…” the Healer went on to explain the process, but Lucius couldn’t hear any of it as soon as Hermione grabbed his hand for support. Everything he’d ever believed in his past suddenly collapsed. This woman was part of his family. The only witch he would ever choose for his son and to mother his grandchildren. He wanted nothing more than for her and the baby to survive. 

Before he knew what was happening, the tiny witch was crushing his fingers within her hard grasp as the Healer counted to ten. 

“You’re doing great, Hermione!” Potter exclaimed with an encouraging smile.

“Shut...the...fuck...up,...Harry,” she gritted out between breaths. “I...need...Draco…” she sounded like she was on the brink of tears. 

“Again,” Healer Edwards counted. “One…,”  _ screaming _ , “...four…,”  _ crushed fingers _ … “...seven…”  _ cursing Harry…  _ “ten!” 

“Brilliant! You can do this!” Potter cheered. His words of encouragement seemed to be making this worse for her, and Lucius wouldn’t have her even more upset than she currently was. After a few more rounds of pushing, he finally spoke up. 

“It’s not a bloody Quidditch match, Potter. Stop cheering as if your team is about to win the World Cup,” the older Malfoy sneered without malice. Hermione sighed with relief, and a small smile graced her lips. For the first time today, she seemed to relax a bit. 

“Thank you, Lucius. It helps when you say the things I know he would say if he were here,” the tired witch rasped softly, a small tear escaping her eye and trailed down her flushed cheek. 

“Sorry,” the dark-haired wizard apologized. “Ginny appreciates encouragement.” Hermione offered a smile and squeezed his hand. 

“Again,” the Healer instructed. She seemed to be quite amused by the scene unfolding before her. How many people could say they had ever watched Harry Potter be treated as anything but a hero? 

Time moved quickly and slowly all at once. Lucius wasn’t sure how long it was before the Healer announced that she could see the baby’s head, full of bright blond hair, of course. A short time later, the final pushes came and the Healer revealed the tiny baby. It was the most beautiful event Lucius had ever witnessed. Without thinking, he kissed the top of Hermione’s head. It was impossible to look away from where a small team of Healers cleaned the baby.

“You did it, Hermione,” Harry congratulated his friend, a pool of tears forming in his bright green eyes. 

“Sorry for yelling at you the whole time,” she chuckled while watching the Healers take care of her son.

“You’ve been yelling at me since I was 11 years old; I’m kind of used to it by now.”

“How would you like to cut the cord, Grandpa?” the Healer asked. It took Lucius a moment to realize she was talking to him. He turned hopefully to Hermione for permission, and she nodded with a grin.

“I don’t...well, that is...I  _ can’t _ …” Lucius stammered, ashamed to admit that his abilities to use a wand were taken away because of the atrocious sins of his past.

“Would it be alright if he used scissors as the Muggles do to cut the umbilical cord?” Harry finished for him. The Healer’s eyes flickered swiftly over Lucius’s covered forearm where his fading Dark Mark remained as a reminder of the irony of this situation. 

“Of course. Sometimes Muggle-born witches request their parents or Muggle siblings do the honor, so we do keep those around,” she assured them as she opened a few drawers looking for a pair of sterile scissors. They looked similar to the gardening shears he’d seen Cissy using since he’d come home. She’d shown him how to use them after the day they’d spent in the garden with the children for a picnic a few months ago. His wife had laughed at the sloppy way he’d retrieved the flowers without a wand that day. 

Apparently, cutting through an umbilical cord and a stem of a flower was different, but he managed to do it without harming the baby and ignored how the Healer had to fix his jagged cut. His wife would be the only one to hear of how he’d messed up using Muggle scissors. It was his presence that was important here. In spite of everything, Hermione had allowed him to take part in the birth of his grandson, and it meant the world to him. 

The Healers placed the baby on Hermione’s exposed chest while Harry and Lucius uncomfortably averted their eyes. Sitting in the two chairs across the hospital room, they could hear her cooing and speaking to her son with the exhaustion infused love of a new mother. The musical tone made Lucius recall the soothing voice Cissa would use with Draco when he was an infant. 

Out of nowhere, an incessant beeping filled the room and the team of Healers sprang into action. While most of them attended to Hermione, whose skin had paled greatly, a young Healer wizard approached Lucius and Harry with the baby. 

“What’s happening? Is she alright? Tell us what is going on!” Potter demanded with all the authority his name and position as an Auror could carry. The command in his voice made the Healer take a step backward. There was no doubt that he must have been a Hufflepuff.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Potter. She’s losing some blood, but I promise she’ll be okay” he said confidently. “Right now, I need both of you to focus your attention on the young Mr. Malfoy.” The two wizards nodded apprehensively, both sneaking a glance across the room to Hermione. 

“You’re sure about her?” Potter asked, the weight of his concern laden in his words. 

“Yes. We have our best team of doctors here, and no one at St. Mungo’s wishes to face the wrath of Auror Malfoy,” he offered a friendly smile. It was nice to know Draco had inherited his father’s ability to intimidate almost everyone who came in contact with him. That particular skill would serve him well over the years.

“Will my grandson be alright? You said we should focus on him.”

“The most important thing he needs right now is skin-to-skin contact. I need one of you to hold him against your chest while I perform some diagnostic spells. He’s a few weeks early, so we’ll need to make sure he’s developed everything he needs to survive outside the womb.”

“I can do it,” Lucius readily volunteered in spite of his discomfort of baring his chest to strangers. The Healer instructed him to unbutton his shirt and guided his arms to cradle the baby just so as he performed his diagnostic spells. The blond wizard cataloged each one of the boy’s features, so like his son,..so like his own. When his grandson opened his pale grey eyes, he stared at his grandfather with a seriousness beyond his young age. Lucius’s heart strained. He had never felt love like this. 

At some point, Hermione was stabilized and rested soundly, the Healers left, checking in every so often, and Harry disappeared to notify the rest of the family about the day’s events. In the absence of an audience, Lucius allowed the tears he’d been holding back to flow freely. He spent his time kissing the top of the baby’s head or drowning himself in the joy of feeling the tiny hand squeeze around his large finger. 

“Where is she?” Draco’s voice broke the calmness of the room. His eyes were mad with fear, searching the room frantically, torn between attending to his wife or meeting his son. 

“ _ Always _ choose her first,” Lucius advised. “The boy is fine.” His words were all Draco needed to decide. The older Malfoy returned his attention to the sleeping baby as his own son fawned over his wife. After a few minutes, he thought it best to leave before Hermione woke up. Wordlessly, he handed the baby to Draco and headed out to the hallway, where he slumped into a seat outside the door and cradled his head in his hands. 

Time no longer existed. The day’s events had Lucius lost in his own thoughts, and he couldn’t be sure if it had been minutes or hours before the door opened beside him. Lucius stood at the sight of his disheveled son. He looked like he’d been through Hell and back to get here. The father and son faced one another for a few moments. Though only a few paces apart, a gulf of poor decisions, betrayal, and misunderstandings flowed between them. Lucius would have reached for him if he could muster the courage. Eventually, something in Draco’s face changed. His expression morphed into the one he wore as a boy just before grabbing the Snitch, and he crossed the space between them to hug his father.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “You could have been sent back to Azkaban, but you saved them anyway,” his voice hitched. Lucius took a deep breath and for the first time, finally embraced his son. 

* * *

“Allow me to introduce Caelum Lucius Malfoy,” Draco announced proudly to the waiting room full of family and friends. He bent down for Scorp, Cassie, and Ori to meet their new baby brother. 

“He look like us!” Ori exclaimed happily, holding up one of his own bright blond curls.

“Only the boys get to have your eyes, Daddy?” Cassie asked sadly as Caelum’s inquisitive grey orbs turned to his only sister. 

“Yours are the prettiest to me,” Draco murmured quietly for only her to hear. “They’re just like Mummy’s.” 

“I’m beautiful and special,” she whispered happily as he kissed the top of her head. 

“Do you think he’ll like for me to read to him?” Scorpius wondered, reaching to stroke his new brother’s cheek. 

“Of course, he will, Scorp,” Draco assured his son.

“If you continue to keep having children, you won’t leave any constellations left for them to name your future grandchildren,” Blaise smirked as he reached for the baby, pulling away quickly when Narcissa smacked his hands. 

“You may take your place in line to hold him  _ after _ his grandmothers,” she scolded the Italian wizard, pointing behind her to Jean and Molly. 

“Apparently, my best man title ranks lower than I thought,” he scoffed playfully as he backed away. 

“May I present Roosevelt Hugo Weasley!” Ron burst into the waiting room holding his son high for all to see. His proud smile dropped slightly when he eyed the platinum-haired baby Draco was placing in his mother’s arms. “Are you kidding me? He’s not due for another month! Now a  _ Malfoy _ has stolen my son’s birthday,” Ron said accusingly, pointing at the small bundle Narcissa was holding. 

“Hermione is fine after going into preterm labor with no one but my wandless father around to help her. Thank you for asking,” Draco sighed in frustration. No matter how many years passed, Ron would always be the overreacting prat he’s always been. 

“Sorry, mate,” he replied sheepishly, pulling his once-rival in for a hug as Molly grabbed her newest grandchild from her youngest son’s arms. 

“Congratulations, Weasley. It’s been a crazy day, and we didn’t know you were here,” he offered Ron his hand. 

“We didn’t know you were here either.” 

“Congratulations, gentlemen,” Harry approached the pair of new fathers. 

“Where the fuck were you? I owled you to tell you the baby was coming, and no one knew where you were all day.” 

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me, Ron!” Harry ground out. “I spent the first half of my day scrambling around to multiple crime scenes and trusting Draco not to kill us both. Then, I was summoned to Malfoy Manor, against my will, where I found Lucius holding the limp body of my best friend,” he explained, wincing at the memory. “As if that wasn’t enough, I spent the rest of my day hoping my bones wouldn’t break as Hermione crushed my fingers and yelled at me delivering this prat’s baby,” he pointed to Draco, “while simultaneously being berated by his bloody father for being ‘too enthusiastic and cheerful’ during the birth of his grandchild.” 

“You were cheering for her? She must have hated that!” Draco laughed heartily. 

“It seems I can’t quite keep my foot out of mouth today,” Ron admitted, a tinge of red darkening his cheeks. “Forgive me, Harry.”

“S’alright, mate. At least the day ended with Ginny and I getting two new nephews,” he smiled widely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Magic-Saphira for giving me the idea for the name, Caelum, for the new baby.
> 
> Caelum /ˈsiːləm/ is a faint constellation in the southern sky, introduced in the 1750s by Nicolas Louis de Lacaille and counted among the 88 modern constellations. Its name means "chisel" in Latin, and it was formerly known as Caelum Sculptorium ("the engravers' chisel"); It is a rare word, unrelated to the far more common Latin caelum, meaning "sky, heaven, atmosphere".[3] It is the eighth-smallest constellation.
> 
> Also, I thought I don't know how her family works, but I'll assume Pansy's family names their children for flowers. Roosevelt means field of roses in Dutch.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the update. There will only be two more chapters left after this.


	14. Problem Solved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for waiting for the final chapter of this story. I hope you enjoy it! It took me a long time to figure out how I wanted to end it before the epilogue.

**Chapter 14: Problem Solved - May 8, 2008**

“I insist, Theodore,” Hermione said sternly to the nervous wizard avoiding looking in her general direction as she fed Caelum. It was sweet how uncomfortable it made him though nothing scandalous was showing. 

“It’s hardly necessary to rush anything when we’ve already waited this long, and you’ve just had the baby. You aren’t even back at work yet,” he argued as his eyes darted around the room but never on her. Hermione wondered if he’d be more or less awkward if Draco were home; the very thought amused her. Unfortunately, he’d been working nonstop on the case of the cursed toys. 

“I’m willing to bet you wouldn’t be saying that if she didn’t have her tit in the baby’s mouth right now,” Blaise snickered, pretending to leer at his best mate’s wife, who rolled her eyes and ignored him.

“For Merlin’s sake, I am covered by a blanket. Look at me this instant Theodore!” she demanded. His bright blue eyes hesitantly met hers. “I’d like to finish working on your case _before_ I return to work because I have no doubt I’ll be returning to a swamp of unfinished tasks,” she explained kindly. Nott nodded in understanding. 

“Astoria has had a hard time getting away or sending me owls. Ever since the Quidditch match at Malfoy Manor, Flint has practically kept her and Christopher under lock and key,” Theo said sadly. “I’m not sure how we’ll be able to sneak them over to take this paternity test you spoke of.”

“Leave that to me,” Hermione smirked, knowing she already had a plan in place. She’d like to have set it up earlier, but Astoria hadn’t been allowed to leave her home with her son in over a month, making the task impossible. 

“You look too much like your husband when you make that face,” Blaise sneered in disgust. “Perhaps, you two are a little too close.”

“Why exactly are you here, Zabini?” the witch feigned annoyance.

“Is this what postpartum mood swings look like? If so, I’m not a fan,” he answered, his nose scrunched up as if he smelled something nasty.

“No, I’m simply wondering why you are in my home perving on me instead of your own wife?”

“If you’d ever finish shoving your bosom in his face, I want to hold Caelum to see if I like babies,” the Italian wizard said matter-of-factly. “I’ve been told to change his nappy too, just to see if I can handle it. Between us, I don’t really want to do that part though.” 

“ _You’re_ going to be a father?” Theo wondered with a hint of accusation. 

“Not yet! Eventually though...that’s the plan at least,” Blaise answered with an uncharacteristic hesitance. His brow furrowed as if he couldn’t convince himself of the possibility that he might have a child one day. 

“You’ve held every one of my babies, to include your godson, Ori, and have been absolutely brilliant with each one of them,” Hermione complimented him. “Surely, you already know how wonderful you’ll be as a father one day,” she smiled as she handed her son over to the wizard she’d befriended along with her husband all those years ago. 

“I’m not so sure how great of a father I’ll be,” he whispered, staring down at the now sleeping baby in his arms, “but back then, I never looked at your children while considering the possibility that I’d ever love someone enough to marry them let alone want them to bear my children.”  
“Oh, please. The boys were right: you’re a bloody whiny git. You’ll treat that kid as an extension of yourself and spoil her half to death. None of us will know who’s head is bigger, you or your kid,” Theo laughed.

“ _Her_?” Blaise choked out. 

“Yes, _her_! You think a wizard with a past like yours has a boy straight off?”

“What does that mean?” the Italian wizard asked, his eyes wide with fear.

“It means that instead of just wondering if your boy will be the manwhore you always were, you get to worry about every little wizard that talks to your future daughter. She’ll no doubt be gorgeous like her mother. Will she end up a Malfoy? A Weasley? Maybe a future Nott when I finally get my life together and have another son,” Theo laughed and wagged his eyebrows at Blaise’s look of shock. Hermione hid her smile behind her hand at the exchange. These Slytherins sure had a way of getting their point across. 

“Not my daughter! She doesn’t even exist yet, and you’re already marrying her off to one of you gits’ sons? I’ll become a professor at Hogwarts and watch over her myself if it keeps all your hormonal boys’ little wands away from her!” Blaise spat angrily through his teeth. His eyes narrowed at Theo when his grin grew wider at the Italian wizard’s reaction. 

“I think it’s safe to say you _are_ ready for a child,” the Gryffindor witch giggled. “You sound as crazy as Draco and Ron when it comes to Cassie and Rose,” she rolled her eyes. 

“Really?” he grinned, jumping up and gently handing Caelum to Hermione. With long strides, he made his way over to the Floo.

“We’re in the middle of a conversation. Where are you going?” Theo asked with wide eyes.

“To make a baby, obviously,” Blaise replied with no further explanation as he disappeared into the flames of the Floo. It did not go unnoticed that he still hadn’t changed a nappy, but Hermione he’d get plenty of practice in the near future.

* * *

**May 9, 2008**

_Mr. Flint,_

_I am writing to invite you and your family to join us for dinner at Malfoy Manor on Tuesday, May 13, 2008, at 6:00 p.m. There are some business matters I’d like to discuss with you, and Cissa insists on your wife’s input on a remodeling project she is working on in our west wing. I’m afraid she’s been out of touch with anyone in proper society for much too long._

_We look forward to next Saturday._

_-L.M._

* * *

**May 12, 2008**

“I’ve looked through these memories from the shop clerks a thousand times, and the only conclusion I can come to is that whoever is behind the cursed toys is using Polyjuice Potion disguised as different people every time,” Harry ranted in frustration, pacing the length of Draco’s office as his black Auror robes billowed behind him. 

“What makes you think it’s Polyjuice and not just different people?” the blond wizard asked. As a curse-breaker, he hadn’t viewed the memories as Potter and the rest of the investigation team had. 

“His mannerisms were the same every time. Though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly who he reminds me of, I feel like he’s someone I’ve met before. He seemed on the edge of losing his temper and no matter which face he wore, he always offered the clerk a constant sneer,” Harry explained. “You know that particular snobbish Slytherin trait of looking down on everyone you feel is below you?” he stopped his pacing to wink at Draco in that infuriating way of his.

“You know, comments like that are why I never prevent you from getting overly sloshed on Friday nights,” the blond wizard replied with his arms folded across his chest.

“Knowing you don’t stop me when you’re aware I’ve had more than enough wouldn’t hurt so much if either Ginny or I could make a proper Pepperup Potion, you git!” the dark-haired wizard laughed, shoving Draco playfully in the shoulder. 

“I’m doing the rest of us a favor. You’re much funnier when you’re pissed,” Draco smirked. It was easy for them to fall into their normal banter but now wasn’t the time. They had work to do. “Back to the point, you immature tosser! Aside from seeming like a ‘Slytherin snob’, what else did you notice about our suspect?” he asked, snapping Harry back into Auror mode and causing him to continue his pacing. It was an unfortunate habit he’d picked up from Draco over the years of friendship and working so closely together. The other Aurors compared them to an anxious pack of wolves when the two of them were intent on solving a case and both pacing back and forth in the office. Suddenly, the Gryffindor wizard paused, closing his eyes as if in deep thought. 

“I can’t be sure,...but...but I _think_ he wore a ring in most of the memories…” he said, absently rubbing his scar as he often did when he was deep in thought. 

“Like a wedding band?” Draco pressed.

“Fuck...I’ll need a Pensieve to view those memories again,” he started to walk toward the door. 

“Potter, wait,” the blond wizard called. Suddenly the comment his friend had made about snobby Slytherins gave Draco an idea. Although being born a Squib wasn’t necessarily about blood status, it brought shame on the family, especially among pureblood circles. The Dark Lord had certainly hoped to eradicate them from the wizarding world. Aside from Blaise, Pansy, and now Theo, the Malfoy’s had been completely out of touch with the Sacred Twenty-Eight since the end of the war. “If he’s a pureblood wizard, he’ll likely have a family signet ring like the one I used to wear,” he said as he held up his empty right hand and pointed to his ring finger. Harry gave him a stiff nod before sweeping out of the office. 

If Draco’s hunch was correct, the suspect, in this case, had to be a pureblood, but none of the Death Eaters he knew had any particular knack for curses. Anyhow, very few of them had escaped a long sentence in Azkaban, or worse, had already suffered a lonely death. 

Like Hogwarts’ Slytherin House, Durmstrang Institute was also known to nurture some Dark wizards in its time. Perhaps their suspect was of foreign descent. He wondered if his father would be able to ask around with the permission of the Ministry. Although Draco’s change of heart had been widely publicized over the years, many wouldn’t believe Lucius to be capable of such a transformation. 

* * *

**May 13, 2008**

“Relax, darling,” Cissa soothed as she smoothed her hands over her husband’s flawless robes. “It is just a distraction. A few hours of discomfort, so Hermione can acquire the evidence she needs.”

“I loathe stepping into the role of my former self...it feels traitorous to pretend I am the same man I once was and believe those... _abhorrent_ things,” Lucius confessed, dropping his head in his hands. He’d shed those beliefs over the course of the last few months since his return home, but after Caelum was born, his Dark Mark had completely disappeared. He’d nearly choked on the emotions he’d been holding back for most of his life when he’d woken up the next morning to clean skin. The loathsome stain had plagued him as he grew to love his grandchildren and daughter-in-law. It made him sick to think he’d have to pretend to be that man again when he’d finally freed himself of the daily reminder. 

“Think of the boy, my love,” she pleaded. “From what Theodore tells me, Mr. Flint has been a nightmare. Astoria has hardly been able to escape his grasp since the Quidditch match we hosted at the Manor. Apparently, he was extremely displeased to see Mr. Nott, and his temper scares both Astoria and Christopher.” 

Knowing Flint had been a monster to his family didn’t sit well with Lucius. He’d done a great many terrible deeds in his day under the thumb of a madman, and Draco had paid for it dearly. He couldn’t let that happen to another innocent child. If pretending to be in league with Marcus Flint for a night allowed Christopher to grow up with the love of his real father and mother, then he must play his part.

A short time later, the roar of flames from the Floo alerted the Malfoys that their guests had arrived. Marcus entered the room as if he owned the space while Christopher clung to his waif of a mother. Though tall and beautiful, Astoria appeared to have disappeared in the short time it’d been since Lucius had seen her last. Her dress hung from her thin frame like a child playing dress-up in her mother’s clothes. Dark circles encased her eyes like that of a raccoon, and her long blond hair hung limply around her shoulders. The concern for the once-vibrant girl must have shown in Lucius and Narcissa’s eyes.

“We appreciate your invitation to dinner this evening,” Marcus said politely. “I’m hoping your Elves’ cooking will persuade this one to stop this new diet she’s started recently,” he laughed uncomfortably, jerking his thumb toward his wife. Lucius held back his sneer at the lie, but Cissa pasted on a convincing smile.

“I assure you, Mrs. Flint, you’ll be quite pleased with the flavors our Elves use to spice up healthy and nutritious food,” Narcissa said kindly as she led their party into a small dining room reserved for personal intimate gatherings. Marcus would surely take this gesture as a sign of trust and friendship. Even an informal supper with mere acquaintances wouldn’t take place in a family’s personal dining space. 

Over the course of dinner, Lucius found Flint’s conversation to be extremely off-putting. He’d spent most of the evening slandering shared friends and acquaintances through veiled insults. It was obvious the man was trying to sniff out their true feelings about blood status and blood traitors. The war had changed the beliefs of many people in their world, but it seemed the Flint family’s bigotry remained steadfast. 

When Lucius questioned him about his line of work, Marcus spoke in riddles and remained mysterious. 

“Father is really good at potions and cur-” the young boy said, looking to Marcus for approval before he was abruptly cut off.

“Adults are speaking, Christopher,” the troll-faced wizard scolded harshly, pinning the boy with an angry glare. 

“He only means to praise your work, Marcus,” Astoria practically whispered, unable to make eye contact with her husband. Lucius and Narcissa pretended to be oblivious to the awkward exchange.

“I have yet to see your father since I’ve come home,” the blond wizard said, attempting to draw Flint’s unwelcome attention away from his family. “How is he?” 

“The bastard died about a year ago,” Marcus chuckled darkly as he slapped his right hand upon the table. The sound startled his wife and son, and both stared intently down into their laps. “I’m the head of the family now,” he gestured toward the Flint family crest wrapped firmly around his ring finger. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lucius began. 

“Don’t be. I’m not,” Marcus stated firmly. 

By the time dessert was served, both Malfoys were exhausted from trying to converse solely with Flint. It became clear early on that any questions directed to either Astoria or Christopher would be answered by the man of the family. Their existence was one of submission and nothing more. The girl who’d once shone so brightly was dimmed by her Dark and controlling husband. It was almost a relief when Cissa led Astoria and Christopher away, so the men could talk. Lucius’s respite from their discomfort was short-lived when he realized distracting Marcus one-on-one was what he’d been dreading since the moment Hermione told him of her plan. 

* * *

“I’m so glad you made it here safely,” the curly-haired witch greeted Astoria as soon as her mother-in-law had Apparated the witch and her young son into their home. “I was beginning to worry,” she said, peeking at her watch.

“Thank you for doing this for us, Mrs. Malfoy...both of you,” Astoria said as she looked between the two witches, a well of tears forming in her large blue eyes. 

“Please, call me Hermione,” she smiled. “And you must be Christopher?” she asked the young boy, who clung to his mother’s side.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, hardly daring to look at another adult. 

“It is wonderful to meet you, and I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Healer Murphy,” Hermione gestured toward a wizard donned in lime-green robes. “And I believe you know my other friend, Mr. Nott.” The boy’s eyes shot up excitedly to the tall, dark-haired wizard.

“Mr. Theo!” he squealed happily. “Mummy said we weren’t allowed to see you for now. Did you miss us?”

“More than anything in the world,” Theo answered with a grin as he reached out to hug his son. “In fact, Healer Murphy wants to play a silly game with the two of us.”

“Mummy too?” Christopher wondered.

“Not this time. It’s a special game just for the two of us,” Theo directed his son to the sitting room. 

“Okay!” the boy cheered, clearly relaxed and extremely comfortable with Nott.

“Christopher, I’m going to use this special instrument to tickle the inside of Mr. Theo and your cheeks,” Healer Murphy explained. “If you don’t laugh, you get a Chocolate Frog. Do you think you can earn that candy by not laughing?”

“I think we both can do it. Right, Mr. Theo?” the boy asked excitedly.

“Right!” Theo agreed as the Healer set to work. 

Luckily, before Caelum was born, Hermione had discovered the medical clinic Healer Murphy founded in Ireland that served Muggle and magical maladies. He was a Healer that had earned both Muggle and wizarding medical degrees. Though paternity testing was not usually utilized in the magical world, it was offered in Healer Murphy’s clinic. He’d also agreed to testify as a subject-matter-expert in the science behind the tests in front of the Wizengamot since there was no precedent for establishing paternity in the Ministry records. 

“Are you alright, Astoria?” Narcissa asked the frail witch when Healer Murphy had finished his work, and Theo took Christopher to play with Scorpius and Cassie. 

“I’ve become frightened of him. He scolded me for hours after the Quidditch match at your home when he saw Theo there, and worse, that Christopher knew who he was,” her voice broke. “He still has no idea how often we are able to see one another but to be sure, he restricts my time outside our home and has the Elves watching me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione sympathized, wrapping an arm around Astoria. 

“The restrictions and the yelling I can deal with, but...it’s…,” she paused, “...he’s become violent. Although he hasn’t put his hands on us, he’s thrown curses, ones I’ve never heard of before recently. I fear that once he finds out the truth about Christopher, he’ll...really hurt us.” 

“I will do anything in my power to free you of that man,” Hermione vowed. A steady stream of tears poured down Astoria’s sallow face as if it knew the path well and flowed there many times before. Cissa and Hermione embraced the frightened witch while she let out years of repressed misery. There was no way they could send her back to that man tonight. It clearly wasn’t safe. 

* * *

“Tell me, Lucius, what business did you wish to discuss with me?” Flint drew out his question. It reminded him of the way Tom Riddle treated his followers as if they needed him to survive when he was the poison that was killing them all. Reaching deep down inside, Lucius embodied his old self, including the part that wouldn’t tolerate some wizard his son’s age speaking to him with such impudence. 

“I’m sure you’re aware that my wife hasn’t spent time in _proper_ society since I’ve been away,” Lucius said in the bored tone he used to use when speaking with someone he thought less of. 

“Ah, so that is why you invited Nott to the Quidditch match at your home. You thought he was your way of getting back in with pureblood society?” Marcus smirked knowingly. Lucius nodded in reply. He hadn’t thought of that as an excuse, but Flint’s reasoning made it seem as if the former Death Eater was seeking wizards he thought to be within the pureblood circles. Perfect. “I’m sure you found out how quickly Nott is practically a hermit, snubbing proper society at every turn.”

“You must understand, I’ve been quite stifled in my life in spite of my recently found freedom,” the blond wizard began. “To be honest, I hardly recognize what my family has become,” he said, which was true, only not in the way Marcus would interpret his words. Just months ago, he’d never imagined the level of love and happiness his family embodied. When he’d been sent away, his wife and son were lost and alone, but with Draco at the helm, the Malfoy family was as they should be. Admittedly, it was a place Lucius never would have led them had it not been forced upon him. 

“I _knew_ you were putting on an act with those Half-Blood grandchildren of yours! It must be difficult to come home to a bunch of blood traitors, Half-Bloods, and a Mudblood for a daughter-in-law,” the troll-faced wizard snorted, the look of disgust he wore was fitting for such an ugly man. “I’m surprised you haven’t killed them all off and forced Draco to take a proper wife yet!” he chuckled darkly. It would have been impossible to hold back the rage Flint’s words had evoked if Lucius didn’t have over 50 years of experience controlling his emotions. 

“If only I wouldn’t be blamed for such atrocities,” the older Malfoy said tightly. 

“You’ve no idea what I’ve been planning,” Flint replied, smiling as if he had a great secret. Anxiously, he twisted his signet ring around his finger.

“To hurt my son’s family?” Lucius asked blandly as he bit back bile.

“I wondered how committed you are to the mission the Dark Lord left to us,” Marcus said, glancing at Lucius’s forearm where his Mark used to be. “I wasn’t sure if I could trust you before, but I know a man like you will always stay loyal to the pureblood cause no matter what the cost.”

Lucius felt it then. The Darkness this man possessed filled the room and suffocated the blond wizard. As Marcus continued to speak, Lucius willed himself to remain expressionless as he’d been taught since boyhood. _Give away nothing. Keep your enemies close. Say nothing. Maintain your secrets, let the other wizard reveal his own._ The mantras his father had instilled in him played repeatedly through his head.

“I studied curse-breaking after my time at Hogwarts in Bulgaria. Did you know that before the Dark Lord fell, there was a group of purebloods there waiting to join us?” Flint asked with an evil glint in his eye. 

Lucius had known there was a smattering of Dark wizards anxious to join Riddle’s cause back then. They were too scared of Potter’s existence and the prophecy to outwardly support the maniac at the time. 

“What are you saying, Mr. Flint? You have plans to take up the reigns of blood purification?” the older wizard asked. It took everything he had inside him to maintain his composure. He’d gladly spend the rest of his days in Azkaban to protect his family from this man. 

“No, Mr. Malfoy. I’m saying I’ve already begun.”

* * *

“You were right!” Harry burst into Draco’s office. Somehow his permanently untidy hair had become even more of a mess than usual. They were back to long days trying to find whoever was responsible for cursing the Squib children. Earlier this afternoon, St. Mungo’s had sent word they’d lost another victim from the last attack. 

“I often am, can you be more specific, Potter,” Draco replied, frustrated with his own stall in the case. 

“There’s a ring!” he shouted expectantly, pointing to his own right hand. “We need you!”

“ _Me_?” the blond asked in surprise. Harry’s eyebrows rose in exasperation.

“Do you know of any other Aurors that happen to be part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and willing to identify a signet ring on a madman’s hand?” the Gryffindor challenged, throwing up his arms, gesturing toward Draco. The Slytherin hated when Potter bested him regardless of how rare an occasion that may be. 

“No need to be a tosser about it, Harry. I’ll help you solve your case... _again_.” Draco smirked. His light teasing was met with a playful punch to his side as they hurried down the hall toward Potter’s office to take a look at the Pensieve. 

* * *

“No, Mr. Malfoy. I’m saying I’ve already begun.” Draco heard Marcus reveal to Lucius through a set of Extendable Ears as he stood outside of his father’s office door. They’d been lucky to catch the corrupt wizard still at the Manor. By the time Draco had identified the Flint signet ring in the store clerks’ memories, stumbled through the Floo of his home to make sure Astoria, Christopher, and his mother were still safely there, and made it back to his parent’s house with a team of Aurors, he was afraid they had missed their opportunity to bring Marcus to justice. 

As it turned out, they’d heard a full confession of the man’s crimes. So convinced was Flint that Lucius was incapable of change, he’d admitted his entire plan to perfect his curses on Squibs since he thought them to be the most worthless. Over the past year, he’d gained a few followers, though most were foreign, and was hoping to raise an army. Once he mastered his wand work, he’d attack blood traitor families and eventually planned on taking out larger populations at highly publicized events. 

As soon as the Aurors had apprehended Flint, Lucius’s rage had boiled over. He flew angrily at the detained wizard, screaming curses and threats as he wailed at the man anywhere he could hit him. It was the first time Draco had ever seen his father lose control and fight like a Muggle. After a moment of pretending not to notice the attack, it finally took two Aurors to pry the older Malfoy off of the troll-faced man. 

“I’ll have your jobs for allowing him to attack me! The whole lot of you,” Flint threatened. 

“All I saw was an act of self-defense,” Auror Mulberry spat. Although he wasn’t allowed to excessively harm the accused himself, his youngest son was a Squib, and Draco knew Mulberry would look the other way for this small act of vigilante justice. 

* * *

**June 20, 2008**

“Holy shite! The Dementor’s kiss!” George gasped. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but wow!”

“They haven’t used that punishment at Azkaban since before the war,” Ron stated in disbelief before downing his drink. 

“Well, it took long enough,” Blaise sneered as he sipped his brandy. “The bloody prat admits to being some sort of crazy, pureblooded extremist, and it takes over a month to convict him? It’s unacceptable if you ask me.” 

“Ey missed everthin’!” Hagrid slurred, pointing across the table to Draco. “A guy’s gone a few months, an’ yeh go an’ have some babies, make up with yehr dad, and make us all a new friend,” he slapped Theo on the back. It was the fourth time he’d excitedly acknowledged the additional Slytherin’s presence. 

“If you welcome me one more time, Professor, I’m likely to die of internal bleeding before I have a chance to leave for my honeymoon,” Theo warned the Half-Giant, who began to roar with laughter.

“Professor!” Hagrid guffawed. “Tha’s a good one! Ten points to Slytherin!” he burst into a fit of laughter with the rest of the wizards cramped around their usual table at the Leaky Cauldron. 

“Well forgive me for using proper manners,” Theo huffed under his breath, taking a long, slow sip of his Firewhiskey. “I’m so terribly glad I came out with you lot tonight after missing the last few Fridays,” he drawled sarcastically.

“One would think you’d become more fun now that you’re getting laid all the time,” Harry giggled like a child, and George, Draco, and Ron fell over in laughter with him. Theo glared at his newfound friends. 

“For your information, Potter, she wanted to wait until we were properly married to...take that step again after everything that has happened. While she and Christopher have moved into Nott Manor with me, I’ve respected her wishes. In fact, I’ve been staying in a separate bedroom and courting her the way I wish I could have before her parents married her off to that git,” he explained.

“That's mighty noble of you, Nott,” Harry said sheepishly as he signaled to the waitress for another round of drinks for the table.

“For your sake, I’m glad the wedding is tomorrow,” George clapped Theo’s back, though not nearly as hard as Hagrid had earlier. “I’m surprised your cock hasn’t fallen off with lack of use,” he chuckled at his own joke. 

“How sweet of you to worry about me, Weasley. Perhaps Astoria will wish to discuss it with you when we make up for all our lost time next week,” he countered as if he were serious. George stared back at him with wide eyes without a comeback, a rarity within itself. “I’ll warn you, she won’t be able to walk, but she’ll have plenty of wonderful things to say about the experience, I’m sure.” The older Weasley stared at Theo for a moment longer before his grin grew back in its usual place.

“You bastard! You had me for a second there!” he laughed loudly, causing the rest of the table to join in at the silly exchange between the wizards. It was a relief to Draco how well Theo fit in with this unlikely group of friends.

“How’s Christopher taking the whole thing?” Ron wondered. “It must be difficult for the little guy to find out the man he thought was his father is a fucking psychopathic tosser,” he said. Ron had never been great with words, however, Theo’s face brightened grinned at the mention of his son. 

“Actually, Marcus being a tosser has been the most helpful thing he could have done in all of this. As soon as Astoria and I received the official results of the paternity test, we told Christopher together, and he was so excited by the news that he cried and hugged us both fiercely,” Nott’s face brightened at the memory. “Even though he didn’t legally become a Nott until today’s trial, he’s been calling me ‘Dad’ since the moment we told him that I’m his real father about a month ago.” 

“That’s great, mate,” Harry said with a smile. 

“I still feel a little guilty about leaving him with you and Ginny while Astoria and I are on our honeymoon.”

“It’s only a week, and he’s going to have a great time playing with James and Albus,” Harry promised him. “We’re even taking him to watch a Harpies practice while you're gone, not to mention the way Molly will spoil him with sweets and hugs when she has all of the kids over. He’ll hardly notice you two aren’t around.”

“Really, mate. You two need this time alone more than any couple I know,” Draco assured his friend. 

“If Christopher plays his cards right, I bet Lucius would even allow him to attend his exclusive dance lessons,” George chuckled. “Merlin knows he won’t allow me to learn from him.” 

“Speakin’ of yehr dad, Draco, I can’t believe Hermione got the Wizengamot to agree to take five years off of his sentence!” Hagrid boomed, causing several pub patrons to turn around. Draco smiled. His wife was pretty damn amazing. She certainly overdramatized Lucius’s role in Flint’s confession as if he’d solved the case on his own, but the Wizengamot bought it and reduced his original sentence for his “positive contribution to wizarding society as a whole”. 

The truth was that Lucius thought he was simply distracting Marcus, so Theo and Christopher could take the paternity test. At the time, Hermione was building a case to free Astoria from her marriage contract. No one had any idea that the troll-faced wizard was behind all of these attacks on Squib children. 

“Father is just happy he’ll be freed in time to see Cassie and Scorp off to Hogwarts when the time comes. Of course, he misses his wand too, but knowing he’ll be there for them means the world to him,” Draco explained. Tears had filled the old man’s eyes when the Chief Warlock announced Lucius’s reduced sentence. Going into the trial, he was convinced they would immediately send him back to Azkaban after attacking the evil wizard, but instead, he was closer to having his true freedom.

“Alright, gents, it’s time for me to get going. I’ve got to marry the love of my life tomorrow and make ensure my son is no longer a bastard child anymore,” Theo announced to the table with a wave. 

“We’ll be the ones standing beside you hoping your poor cock makes it to your honeymoon without falling off,” George smiled as they all began gathering their things to follow the groom-to-be out of the pub. 

“True friends, indeed,” Theo laughed. 

The motley crew stumbled their way out to the street and headed toward the Apparition point, arms around one another and holding each other up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading. We have just the epilogue left after this to complete Life Adapted, but there will still be some one-shots I'll add to this series. As always, let me know what you think!


	15. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter of Life Adapted. It is kind of long, but it was hard to give closure to all of the relationships I've introduced along the way.
> 
> I apologize for taking so long to complete this story. The truth is that I'm really going to miss these characters.

**Epilogue**

**December 25, 2008**

“Are you sure we should be hosting Christmas this year?” Lucius asked Arthur as soon as he appeared downstairs early in the morning. The entire Weasley clan and their families had spent the night at Malfoy Manor, so they could all wake up and open presents together in the morning, as was their tradition. “It’s normally at your home, and I feel bad moving it to the Manor just because I can’t leave,” he stared down at his hands and lacked his usual confidence. 

“Nonsense, Lucius. You’ve never been to my home, but if you had, you would know we quite literally can’t fit everyone there anymore. We’ve been bursting at the seams for years,” the Weasley patriarch kindly explained. Lucius choked down the guilt that strangled him by the innocent comment by the wizard before him. The truth was that he’d been to Arthur’s home once during his oldest son’s wedding...as a Death Eater on a raid. At the time, he’d been disgusted by the dilapidated house. If only he knew the love within it, then he’d have seen it for all its beauty.

“You’re a bit overdressed, don’t you think?” Arthur asked, pulling Lucius from his dark thoughts. The blond wizard looked down at his pressed Oxford shirt and trousers. He wasn’t even wearing a tie; how could he dress down any further? Once he turned his eyes back to Arthur, he realized what Cissa meant when she said Christmas morning would be more casual than they were used to. The man was wearing the most gauche pajama set he’d ever seen, featuring dancing woodland creatures donning red caps trimmed with white fur. 

“Am I expected to wear something like that?” Lucius drawled, disgust lacing every word. Suddenly, Draco Apparated beside him from his old bedroom with the twins in tow, all wearing similar inelegant attire. A moment later, Hermione popped into the room holding Caelum with Ori wrapped tightly around her leg. The couple exchanged a look and chuckled. 

“Why are you dressed like that? Didn’t Mother tell you this would be informal,” Draco chuckled as he looked his father up and down. 

“I thought it would be funnier for him to be surprised,” Narcissa swept into the room, somehow making the distasteful Christmas tree nightgown she wore look elegant. 

“Grandfather, can you wear Nutcracker pajamas like me?” Cassie asked, grabbing his hand and twirling around it gracefully. Lucius took at the soldier and ballerinas that danced around her nightdress. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad since everyone would be dressed this way. He allowed Hermione to transfigure his clothes to pajamas that mimicked a toy soldier. 

If he hadn’t felt ridiculous before, he sure did when Blaise burst through the Floo with his pregnant wife. The Italian wizard immediately found Lucius and collapsed into a fit of laughter. When he finally caught his breath, he simply smirked at the older Malfoy.

“Are you quite finished?” Lucius demanded. 

As if on cue, Ron and George raced one another down the grand staircase, instantly seeking out Lucius and slapping each other as they howled in delight. The older wizard rolled his eyes. His son’s friends were a nuisance. 

“At least...he isn’t...trying to...wear...a _tie_...like his...prat of a son...did the first time!” George huffed between breaths of giggles. Draco shrugged, and his cheeks brightened at the memory. 

“If you recall correctly, I didn’t have a tie; I simply asked if I _needed_ one, you bunch of tossers!” Draco corrected the Weasley brothers. As the friends traded jibes, a steady stream of pajama-clad Weasleys made their way downstairs to the drawing room. Mrs. Parkinson arrived via Floo looking around the room with distaste. 

“Mum, I told you to wear the Christmas puppy sleep clothes I sent you,” Pansy admonished her mother, who was wearing semi-formal robes. “Rose picked them out special for you. Can you please go change?”

“Are you sure that’s necessary, darling?” Mrs. Parkinson asked, looking completely scandalized as she watched the Christmas raucous unfold before her. She kept turning to Lucius as though she was expecting him to be an ally in her discomfort, but he was quite intrigued by the traditions of this day. It was all his grandchildren had been talking about for months. 

“Must we go through this _every_ year, Mother?” Pansy challenged sharply as Roosevelt wiggled in her arms. The little boy was reaching with all his might toward his Uncle Charlie, who was holding a plush Chinese Fireball dragon he’d brought for his youngest nephew. 

“You know, I find that wearing these silly pajamas might make me feel ridiculous, but look how happy it makes them,” Lucius mentioned to Mrs. Parkinson just before Cassie and Scorp hugged him around the middle. His words seemed to soften the older witch, and she popped back home to change.

“Daddy said there was no way you’d wear sleep clothes in front of company, but Mummy just knew you would,” his only granddaughter announced as Hermione winked at him. “My James is here!” the little girl suddenly squealed, leaving Lucius and his daughter-in-law to smile after her as she ran toward the young boy entering the double doors. He appeared to have just woken up, and his hair was a nest of untamed, thick black hair just like his father’s. The tired look upon his face was quickly replaced with joy when Cassie hugged him, sparks of magic exploding between them. 

“Saint Potter is here; we can _finally_ get started,” Draco drawled without malice as Harry and Ginny arrived with their family. The dark-haired wizard looked more exhausted than when he and Draco were working all those extra hours trying to catch Marcus. He held his sleeping four-month-old daughter, Lily, securely in his arms with a huge grin.

“Has his Lordship been waiting too long for my arrival?” Harry countered playfully. “You can blame this one,” he nodded down to his daughter. “You’d think she was a Malfoy with how high maintenance she is already.”

“Perhaps, one day she will be,” Theo chuckled loudly, earning himself a smack from his wife. 

“It’s only fair, I suppose,” Harry smirked at Draco.

“What are you on about?”

“Since it’s already set that Cassie will be a Potter in about 11 or 12 years from now,” the dark-haired wizard explained, laughing at Draco’s petulant frown. 

“Alright gentlemen, please save your rubbish for the pub,” Hermione said, calming her husband by placing her hand on his chest. She kissed his cheek and whispered something to him, which seemed to cheer him right up. He ignored Potter’s silent taunts and fell into a loveseat beside his wife. In spite of the crowd around them, the two momentarily disappeared into their own world. 

In his entire life, Lucius couldn’t recall a time when any room in the Manor appeared to look small, however, on this day, the drawing room did. A 15-foot tree stood proudly in front of the floor to ceiling wall of windows on the south wall. An obscene amount of presents were piled high around the tree and spilled into the rest of the room. With the number of people here just for this portion of the festivities, it was a wonder they hadn’t used the grand ballroom instead. 

Molly and Cissa somehow managed to keep the gift exchange orderly. All the grandchildren were lined up in front of the tree and handed presents that they were allowed to open all at once as a group. Screams of delight ensued each time. Repeat. Once Ori and Albus received their toy brooms, they’d decided no more presents were necessary. The two toddlers ran off and attempted to fly around the room. 

As Lucius watched the two boys revel in their favorite new toy, a package was dropped into his lap. He unwrapped it slowly to reveal a finely tailored, black jumper embroidered with an L woven delicately atop the Malfoy coat of arms. It was made of the softest fairy-woven yarn.

“You don’t have to wear it,” Molly said nervously. “It’s just a tradition, and I didn’t want you to feel left out…” she trailed off, not meeting his eye.

“You _made_ this?” Lucius asked, surprised. The Weasley matriarch had a wonderful affinity with cooking, but he hadn’t realized the level of her craftsmanship in knitting. 

“Of course, Dear,” she answered apprehensively. The witch must have taken his shock for something other than adoration for her work. 

“With skill such as this, you should have your own shop,” he commented, holding the jumper up and inspecting it further. Molly blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. I shall wear this today,” he said as he crossed over to the witch to give her a hug. 

“Quit flirting with my mum, Malfoy!” George yelled, causing the rest of the room to erupt into giggles, except Angelina, who quickly sent a stinging jinx his way. 

“Cissa and I have a present for everyone,” Lucius announced. “We’ve hired a professional photographer to take a portrait of each family and our entire group. You’ll each receive a custom frame, created by the photographer, that displays all of the portraits you choose in a never-ending loop,” he explained, completely ignoring George’s previous comment. “He’s scheduled to be here after our fine Christmas breakfast. 

“Muggles have a similar frame, don’t they, David?” Arthur chimed in, hardly suppressing his excitement at something that utilized both Muggle and wizarding technology. Hermione’s father nodded happily, and the two men started a conversation about Muggle gadgets that Lucius couldn’t even pretend to understand. 

“All of you better be on time and look _presentable_!” Molly warned, eyeing George in particular. At some point, her six remaining children and Harry automatically lined up to heed their mother’s words. “I’m not kidding, George!” she pointed at the grown man accusingly. 

“I’ll be good. I swear it!” he promised with his hands held up in surrender. 

“Fred, come here at once,” Molly demanded. The young boy fought to hold back his grin when he stood next to his father. “So help me, if a Weasley child ruins these pictures, they will pay. Do you both understand?” Her tone brooked no argument. 

“Yes, ma’am,” they both replied in unison, as a few snickers broke out behind them. 

“That is not an invitation for you little snakes to try to be funny,” Cissa cut in, pinning a cold gaze on Draco, Blaise, and Theo. 

“We’re much more mature than that, Mother,” Draco protested.

“No, you most certainly are not,” she replied haughtily. “Just because you are more cunning with your antics, doesn’t make you more mature.” 

“Yes, Mother.”

“Yes, Mrs. Malfoy,” they replied, looking properly chastised. With that, everyone dispersed to get ready for the day. 

The true meaning of Molly’s gift came to light when everyone came back together, all donning what Lucius learned were referred to as “Weasley jumpers”. Every member of the family and extended family, which now included him, had one. They came in a variety of colors and styles, fitted to each person’s preferences. It took a moment to realize that the jumper Cissa wore was similar to his own, yet it had the Draco constellation woven into the design. Each of the children wore their own constellation as well. 

“Why don’t I have any constellations?” Lucius wondered, though he rather enjoyed the simplistic design of his jumper. 

“The same reason your son doesn’t have them.” 

“Why?” he asked, admiring his son’s blue Weasley jumper. His wife chuckled at the question.

“He said he prefers not to look like the ‘entire sodding night sky’ every Christmas,” Cissa quoted Draco with a smile. “Like father, like son.”

* * *

**December 2013**

**(Five Years Later)**

“Daddy, why do you look so sad? Aren’t you excited that Scorp and I received our letters from Hogwarts?” Cassie asked, kissing her letter as she spun around in a perfect pirouette, long curls whipping in the wind. Once she’d surpassed Lucius’s level of dance instruction, she began private lessons with Madam Abella Debois of the Parisian Wizarding Ballet Company. The revered dancer’s time cost more Galleons than Hermione thought necessary for dance lessons, but Lucius wouldn’t hear of anything but the best instructor for his granddaughter.

“Of course, I’m happy for you both, but I’ll miss you and Scorp so much while you’re away,” Draco reached out to his daughter as she spun herself into his chest and hugged him fiercely. He kissed the top of her curly head, realizing just how much he’d miss his two oldest children come September when the school year would begin. As thrilled as Draco was for the twins to begin their magical education, he was dreading the things they’d learn about him and his father’s past. There were definitely families out there that still didn’t believe the Malfoys had changed regardless of how much money Lucius raised for charities through the family business and the amount of time Draco had spent as an Auror. It seemed as if none of their good deeds could ever erase their past with some witches and wizards. 

“We’ll write all the time,” Scorpius promised with a smile. He’d grown much taller over the years. One day he’d surpass his father in height for sure. 

“We’re sure you will, Scorp,” Hermione brushed her son’s cheek lovingly. “The thing is...we’d like to speak with you both about something... _serious_ ,” she explained, squeezing Draco’s hand. He held onto her as if she were his only lifeline. The twins looked at one another skeptically before following their parents through the Floo to Malfoy Manor. 

This was it. The moment Draco had dreaded since he first imagined having a future with Hermione that included children of their own. Today, they’d finally know the horrid role he and his father played in the war. Savoring the last moments of pure love Cassie and Scorp would probably have for him, he draped his arms around each of them. 

“Is someone dying, Daddy?” Cassie asked curiously, peeking up at him with worried eyes. 

“No, of course not, darling,” he held her just a little tighter. Scorpius seemed to sense something was off and pulled himself in closer too. Draco hardly noticed when his parents walked into the library where he was holding his son and daughter as if he’d never see them again. As he entered the library, Lucius joined the somber group, wrapping his arms around his son and oldest grandchildren. He too had been dreading this moment. 

Over the last few years, Hermione, Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius had discussed at length how they should finally tell the children the truth about the Malfoys. They’d wanted to keep it from them as long as possible, so they finally settled on the day after Cassie and Scorpius received their Hogwarts letters. They didn’t want them to find out from other students at school with their parents and grandparents so far away. Merlin forbid if Professor Binns were to mention it in class without warning or preparation. The two young Malfoys would be completely embarrassed. It was better to find out now when they could ask questions. 

“Will someone please tell us what is going on?” Scorpius asked politely. “Why are Ori and Caelum with Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny? Shouldn’t they be here for whatever is happening?” Curious like his mother, the boy detested being left in the dark. The four adults looked around at one another before gesturing for the twins to sit down. 

“There is something we would like to discuss with you before you find out another way,” Hermione said as she sat between the twins, holding both of their hands. 

“You see, there may be some people who treat you... _differently_ because of...our family,” Lucius started awkwardly. He dropped into a wingback chair while Draco paced behind him. “We weren’t always so…” the older wizard trailed off, turning his wide eyes toward his son.

“As you know, before you were born, there was a big war. All of us fought in it,” Draco motioned to the four adults. “It’s why Mummy, Uncle Harry, and Uncle Ron are considered heroes to our kind, and strangers always thank them wherever we go,” he explained. “Maybe you’ve noticed how those strangers sometimes look at me a little strangely.” Exchanging a cautious glance, Scorpius and Cassie nodded their heads. 

“Have you ever heard of blood purity?” Lucius asked stiffly. 

“It’s a concept in the wizarding world that distinguishes between family trees that have different levels of magically-endowed members, consisting of Muggle-borns, like Mummy, half-bloods, like us,” Scorpius gestured between himself and his sister, “and purebloods, like all the Malfoys before us,” the young boy rattled off the definition as if he were reading it from a textbook. “Did you know that the Malfoys have one of the longest lines of purebloods in wizarding Britain?” he asked excitedly. “Nearly a thousand years of pureblooded Malfoys!” Scorpius added proudly to the group of dumbfounded adults. “Isn’t that interesting?” 

“How do you know that, son?” Draco asked worriedly. After everything they’d been through, he couldn’t imagine his father teaching the children any of that blood purity rubbish. 

“I read a book about it, of course,” Scorpius replied, looking as smug as his mother. “Dad, did you know you, my Rose, Roosevelt, Christopher, Mr. Theo, little Theo, Aunt Astoria, and Aunt Pansy are part of a list called the ‘Sacred Twenty-Eight’?” he asked proudly. What book had the boy read that made him proud of this whole thing that had started a war within wizarding Britain? 

“Having a long family history is very interesting, Scorpius, but it is important to know that it doesn’t make you better than anyone else who can’t trace their magical history so far back,” Hermione explained cautiously, squeezing her son’s hand. Draco had no doubt that their son reminded her of her prat of a husband when he was that age. 

“I _don’t_ think it makes us better, Mum. I just think history is fascinating,” he replied innocently. 

“You’re a better man than us, Scorp,” Draco said, clapping his hand down on Lucius’s shoulder. “We used to think being a pureblood made us extra special. I know we’ve told you in the past how I used to be a very bad boy in school and was extremely mean to Mummy.”

“Yes, I remember that you stole her flower,” Cassie announced, happy to offer something to the conversation like her brother did. 

“Draco! What did you tell them?” Hermione pinned her husband with an exasperated, flushing pink. 

“Nothing, I swear it!” he replied with his hands held high in surrender. “I have no idea how she even remembers that!” Draco shrugged. His father was of no help at all as he completely failed to stifle his laughter. 

“The things our family is known for was far worse than a few schoolboy taunts,” Narcissa chimed in, steering the conversation back to its original purpose, a confession. 

“I’m ashamed to say that we were on the wrong side of the war, the _bad_ side,” Lucius gathered himself and followed his wife’s lead. “It is my fault entirely. If it weren’t for my...prejudice against...Muggle-borns, your father and grandmother would never have fought with the Dark Lord,” he cast his head down, embarrassed to face the two innocent children in front of him.

“It’s okay, Grandfather, you’re a good man _now_ ,” Cassie smiled brightly. “Fred told us that none of that mattered now because you’ve all changed so much,” she soothed. 

“Fred? What does he know of it?” Lucius asked, peering up hopefully at his granddaughter. 

“He told us a couple of years ago when he was a first year at Hogwarts. Freddy told us that Daddy and Uncle Harry came into his History of Magic class to talk about the war,” Scorpius answered with Cassie nodding beside him. 

In preparation for their children attending Hogwarts, Draco and Harry had spoken to the students about the war as guest speakers in Professor Binns’ class every year since they’d found out Hermione was pregnant with the twins. They’d thought it would help young witches and wizards to see both perspectives from the war as well as show them that people can change. Sometimes Ron came with them, but he hated speaking about that time in their lives. 

“I can’t believe you’ve known about our part in the war all this time. Why didn’t you say anything?” Cissa wondered in astonishment. 

“Because we already talked to Grammy and Grampy about it, and they told us that who you were back then doesn’t reflect who you are now. They said everyone makes mistakes, and Daddy and Grandfather have paid dearly for theirs,” Cassie explained as she stood to hug the older two Malfoy wizards. 

“I read a bunch of books about blood purity after Freddy told us. That's how I know so much about it,” Scorpius confessed proudly. 

“You just...just... _forgive_ us?” Lucius was baffled. “My crimes are far worse than your father’s. He was just a boy...but I...I _tortured_ people…,” he swallowed hard, staring at his hands in disgust. His eyes glossed over as he pulled at his own hair. The children gaped at him. “I don’t deserve to be forgiven by the two of you,” he whispered. Although Draco’s guilt was heavy, his burden was never as great as his father’s. His crimes were far less than Lucius. It had taken the man nearly fifty years to accept that he was wrong about the beliefs he’d held for a lifetime. 

“Mummy forgave you,” Cassie offered in a soft voice.

“Yes, well, I am rather unworthy of her forgiveness as well.”

“Grandfather,” Scorpius stood in front of the man and squared his shoulders. Lucius looked up at the young boy who looked so much like his son. “The terrible mistakes you’ve made are inexcusable. We aren’t proud of the things you’ve done all those years ago, but we are proud to be your grandchildren. I read in an article recently that no other company has raised so much money for charity as Malfoy Industries. It said that since you’ve taken over Daddy’s position in the company, charitable donations have tripled...In a way, you’ve saved many lives too.”

“It has been our goal to change what the Malfoy name means for Ori, Caelum, and both of you,” Draco said as he bent down to hug his children. “We’ve worked tirelessly to fix the way the wizarding world sees us, so all of you will never have to prove yourselves,” he explained. “Unfortunately, no matter what good we do in this world, our pasts will always remain. There will still be people who hate us because we are Malfoys, and for that, we are sorry,” he said solemnly. It broke his heart to think that these sweet children would pay for the sins of their father.

“If people treat us poorly, we’ll have each other and my James,” Cassie assured him.

“And don’t forget about Teddy, Victoire, and Fred,” Scorpius added helpfully. “Really, we’ll be fine.”

“You both make us all so proud,” Hermione kissed the twins on the tops of their heads. 

* * *

**January 2014**

“Welcome to the boys club, Lucius,” Theo slurred around the large cigar in his mouth, raising his nearly-empty glass of firewhisky. “I’ve never called him by his first name,” he whispered loudly to a giggling Blaise. 

“I only call him Lucius when I want to rile him up,” the Italian wizard shoved back at Nott playfully. “I haven’t got the stones to seriously call him that,” he looked up to find the elder Malfoy offering an exasperated expression.

“Judging by the conversation thus far, I’m beginning to miss my Manor prison,” Lucius drawled as the table of the wizards snickered behind their hands. “Theodore, you are an adult with three children of your own, certainly you are not still frightened of an old man because he scared you as a child?”

“I most certainly am frightened now that you have your wand again!” 

“We wouldn’t be terribly put out if you put a Silencing Charm on the both of them,” Ron clapped Lucius on the shoulder, gesturing between himself and Harry. A smile finally graced the blond wizard’s lips. It’d been so long since he had access to his wand that it was no longer second nature for him to reach for it. 

“You know how much I hate to agree with a Weasley, Ronald, but I quite like your idea,” Lucius grinned, whipping out his wand toward his son’s childhood friends and silencing them in spite of their startled expressions. 

“Well done, Father,” Draco praised the older Malfoy. “We’ve endured their nonsense for far too many years,” he drained his glass and signaled the bartender for another round of drinks. 

Coming out to the pub with Draco and his friends was his first official act of freedom since he completed his sentence for his war crimes. It had taken him over a week to finally leave the Manor before the younger wizards came to collect him this evening. Admittedly, he was nervous to be in public since he wasn’t sure how people would react to seeing him. Most hadn’t given him a second look, while others gave him a cautious glance before finally turning away and forgetting his existence altogether. A river of guilt flowed through him as he remembered that his son had faced far worse judgment upon his release back when the war was still fresh on everyone’s minds. Lucius was proud of the man his son had become and lucky he’d sacrificed so much to make all of their lives better in the end. 

As he sat back and listened to the banter between the wizards around him, he wondered if Arthur might accompany him to Muggle London one night to have a drink with David Granger. Though he enjoyed his son’s friends, he’d prefer to spend his time with his own peers.

* * *

**September 2014**

_Dad,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. It must have been hard for you to finally get Mum and Grandmother to stop crying after seeing us off on the Hogwarts Express. I’ll be sure to send her lists of all the books I’ll be reading. Tell Caelum and Ori that I can’t wait to see them for the winter hols to tell them all about school!_

_Neither Cassie nor I were sorted into Slytherin, but I’m sure you’re not surprised that Christopher was. The Sorting Hat hardly had to touch both James and Cassie’s heads before announcing them as Gryffindors. Believe it or not, I was almost sorted with the lions too. Don’t tell Mum, but in the end, I decided I wanted to make my own path and not just follow hers. The Hat argued with me that my decision was an act of bravery, but I told it that I was born with my father’s lack of patience for what Gryffindors consider to be acts of bravery. Also, I think you’ll be far more likely to cheer for Ravenclaw over Gryffindor when I become their Keeper one day._

_Unfortunately, all of my excitement is somewhat tainted. I was wondering what it feels like when you’re far away from Mum? To me, it feels as if part of myself is missing without Rose. Is that normal? Will I feel this anxiety for the next two years until she is with me again? I’m going to write to her now to see if that helps._

_I love and miss you and Mum terribly. Make sure to write to me often!_

_With love,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_Scorp,_

_Thank you for writing to me as soon as possible. Mummy and I miss you both terribly...and James and Christopher too but keep that to yourself. Ori and Caelum really enjoyed getting letters from you as well. You made their whole day when they each received their own owl from their big brother._

_A brave man does choose his own path, and for that, I am proud of you. Just because you are intelligent, it doesn’t mean you lack bravery. In my line of work, I’m a Slytherin surrounded by Gryffindors, but I love what I do regardless of the danger that goes along with it. We always knew you’d be a Ravenclaw. I can’t imagine how terrible school would be for you if you had to constantly babysit a House full of daredevils._

_When it comes time to cheer for you and Cassie during Quidditch matches, I’ll drape myself in blue and bronze over red and gold any day. Let’s leave the Gryffindor colors to Mum. You two are the first Malfoys to wear anything other than green and silver, so I’ll have to get some jerseys made when the time comes._

_To be honest, I feel the same way when I’m far away from your Mum. Aunt Pansy informed me that Rose has been experiencing the same type of anxiousness without you, so we’ll have to speak to Headmistress McGonagall about some sort of solution. Perhaps she will be able to accompany Grandfather and Madam Debois for Cassie’s dance lessons. We’ll figure it out._

_Please do me a favor when you see Uncle Hagrid and remind him about Friday night this week. He’ll know what I’m talking about._

_I love you, son!_

_-Dad_

* * *

_Mummy and Daddy,_

_Sorry, it has taken so long to write to you, but I’ve been much too busy, and Scorp said he’d already told you about the Sorting Ceremony. Though I don’t know quite how to feel knowing Scorp and I have been sorted into different Houses, my James and I were so pleased to be sorted into Gryffindor! We knew this would happen, but I still miss my twin. I think he misses me too because he always partners with me in the classes we share together._

_Did Grandfather tell you how excited I was to see him at my dance lesson this week? I’m glad he was able to arrange for Madam Debois to continue our lessons while I’m at school. She greatly enjoyed her tour of Hogwarts. Apparently, Beauxbatons is quite smaller though more refined. I was only sorry that Rose wasn’t able to attend the tour, but she seemed quite pleased to hear all about Hogwarts from Scorp. I can’t imagine being away from my James all the time like that. For their sake, I hope the next couple of years passes quickly._

_Guess what? Professor Longbottom says I have a natural skill with Herbology! I think it is all the time I’ve spent in Grandmother’s garden. Charms class is my other favorite. My wand lit brighter than everyone else’s, even more than Scorp’s when we learned the Wand-Lighting Charm. Professor Flitwick asked me if you are both still remembering to use your Silencing Charms. For some reason, he found it very funny when I said I’d ask you straight away._

_Did Caelum and Ori receive the charmed Gryffindor pins I sent them? I thought they’d like when the lion roared._

_I love you both so much forever!_

_-Cassie_

* * *

**September 2015**

_Mum and Dad,_

_We did it! All four of us made our House Quidditch teams! I’m the youngest Keeper that Ravenclaw has ever had! Can you believe it? The Gryffindor team was eager for James and Cassie to join too. They’d lost their Seeker and a Chaser at the end of the season last year, so it really worked out for them. With Fred as Beater, they’ll have a great chance at earning the cup this year. Unfortunately for Christopher, Slytherin doesn’t have a very strong team since most of the veteran players graduated already, but he’s just happy to be on the team_

_We can’t wait to see you at our first match next month!_

_Love,_

_Scorpius and Cassie_

* * *

**September 2016**

“Did you know about this?” Ron demanded, sloshing his firewhisky over the rim of his glass. 

“ _Everyone_ knew about this, you dolt!” George answered with a grin. 

“My poor little Rose has been sneaking around to see your kid for _two years_ , and I find out today that they're in the same house at Hogwarts,” he cringed, looking as if he might start puking up slugs again.

“Is it considered sneaking around when her mother is aware of it?” Blaise asked innocently. 

“Well, I’ll bring that point up with her straight away then, won’t I,” Ron rolled his eyes. “How would you like it if one of your three girls was sneaking off to see a Malfoy?” he challenged the Italian wizard, raising a brow. Zabini’s daughters had him wrapped around their little fingers. They were three sweet little witches and beauties to boot.

“Let me think,” he answered, holding up his hand. “Rich. Handsome. Intelligent,” he counted off on his fingers. “You’re right, Weasley, this is tough,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Fine. Malfoy, how old were you when you had your first kiss?” the red-head wondered. 

“Thirteen. Why?”

“Harry, remind me again, how old is James?” Ron asked without turning his gaze away from Draco.

“ _Thirteen?_ ” Harry drew out the number as if it was a question, eyeing Malfoy and gauging his reaction. The blond wizard glared at Ron, his grey eyes icing over. It’d been many years since he’d sneered with such malice.

“I know you’ve told me before, but how old was the youngest soul-bound witch before she was married off?” Draco’s wand was at the Gryffindor’s throat before he could speak another word. “Still think I’m overreacting, Malfoy?” Ron smirked, knowing his friend wouldn’t really hurt him. “Gryffindors are pretty daring, you know…” he taunted.

“Alright, you fucking tosser, you’ve made your point!” Draco snapped as he dropped back into his seat, tightly gripping his wand like a lifeline. James Potter could be attacking his sweet little girl right now. He’d pay to have extra portraits hung in the Gryffindor common room as lookouts if he had to protect her from that boy. 

* * *

**September 2017**

_Dad,_

_Al and I are Slytherins! (He wants you to write an extremely detailed description of Uncle Harry’s reaction to the news.) I was a Hatstall for nearly nine whole minutes! The Sorting Hat thought I would make a great fit in every House. Of course, I eliminated Hufflepuff immediately. If I went to Gryffindor, I’d spend the next few years healing everyone else’s wounds all the time. Ravenclaw would have been nice, but I’m pretty sure I’m your only chance of having a Slytherin child. There is no way Caelum will be sorted into anything but Gryffindor. He’s more reckless than Uncle Harry flying a broom! When it comes down to it, I’m resourceful and a natural leader. My many discussions with Dumbledore’s portrait since I was a small boy have led me to accept this about myself._

_Speaking of your old Headmaster, I have an extra class with him once a week to continue harnessing my powers. Now that I have a wand, it seems I need the additional help to maintain control. During the Welcoming-Feast, I accidentally levitated the entire faculty table. I was trying to raise my glass as I do at home, but the wand makes the Charm just a tad more powerful. Sorry, dad._

_I love you!_

_-Ori_

* * *

**January 2018**

_Mum,_

_Something awful and wonderful has happened. We didn’t want to tell you while we were home for Christmas, but on my fifteenth birthday, my James and I received an additional rune on our backs. We aren’t sure if it is like either of the ones you and Daddy have. He’s been afraid to come near me ever since. There was something about Uncle Ron and Daddy giving him and Scorp a stern talking to when they were thirteen, but he wasn’t allowed to tell me. Do you know about this?_

_Anyhow, I was mad at him for staying away from me for so long, so I went on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s with Reese McClaggen. It was the worst mistake of my life. He tried to force himself on me for a kiss! Luckily, Christopher was there with his girlfriend and saved me. They walked me back to the castle to make sure McClaggen stayed away from me. When we arrived, my Housemates told me that while I was gone, my James had become violently ill all of a sudden. Don’t be angry, but I snuck into the hospital wing that night to see him. It was terrifying. My James looked absolutely dreadful._

_As soon as I reached for him, everything changed. Our magic felt like it was flowing between us instead of just recognizing its match. Like a man possessed, he sat up in his bed and kissed me. It was perfect. Is it strange to know I love him? I suppose I’ve always known I do, but this is real. I can feel it through every nerve in my body._

_Is this how you felt with Daddy? Like you would be content to simply hold his hand for the rest of your life?_

_I just had to tell you because I knew you’d understand!_

_I love you, Mum!_

_-Cassie_

* * *

“What’s wrong with you, Malfoy?” Harry worried. Draco was sure he looked crazy. Maybe he was. Any man in his position would be.

“I’m here to inform you that I’m about to murder your son. You may come if you please, but Ron is meeting me there to murder _my_ son, so I’m off,” Draco responded matter-of-factly as he spun on his heel toward the Auror Floo. 

“I’m in the middle of a case!” Harry called after him, rolling his eyes.

“You’ll have two new cases when both of our sons are dead,” Draco called back without slowing down or turning around. The dark-haired wizard sighed at his friend’s dramatics and chased after him. 

“I hope you know how much you look like the late Professor Snape with your black robes billowing behind you when you storm off angrily,” Harry joked when he caught up with the blond wizard. “Did I gain myself a new daughter-in-law already?” he teased. Draco sneered at him as if they were eleven again. “Oh... _oh..._ did I? They're only fifteen!” 

The Slytherin disappeared through the Floo without responding, and Harry was right behind him. They nearly knocked Ron over as they stumbled into the Headmistress’s office. She peered up from her desk with her nostrils flared in irritation. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you three at Hogwarts in the middle of the school day?” Professor McGonagall huffed in complete exasperation. “Isn’t it enough that I must endure Lucius three times a week for Cassie’s dance lessons?”

“Sorry, professor,” Harry apologized. “Apparently, I’m here to save James and Scorpius from their imminent deaths,” he gestured between Draco and Ron awkwardly. The red-haired Gryffindor’s face was a deep shade of crimson, darkening by the second.

“I see. Well, it will have to wait until late afternoon because they are in class right now,” she quipped. “Will someone please explain to me why two of my finest students are to be murdered today?” 

“Their runes have changed, Headmistress. We need to check the meaning behind them immediately before something terrible happens,” Draco explained calmly. 

“Something terrible like two students becoming husband and wife while still attending school?” she countered with a smirk.

“ _We_ were eighteen and nineteen, Professor. Adults.”

“Rose is only thirteen!” Ron finally exploded. “THIRTEEN!” he growled angrily, his fists balled into tight fists. The fatherly concern that caused his outburst moved Minerva to be more empathetic to the situation. After all, Ronald was fiercely protective of his only daughter. 

“I assure you both, I have put precautionary measures in place to prevent _another_ student marriage on my watch. We implemented the additional portraits in both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor common rooms, all of the doorways have security spells in place to alert the heads of House whenever they are tripped after hours, and the Room of Requirement is carefully watched,” the Headmistress explained. 

“Would we just be able to see the boys to check the runes-” Draco was cut off as Hermione and Pansy stepped through the Floo. 

“Oh, Ronald, look at you,” Pansy cooed softly. “Calm down, my darling,” she began rubbing his shoulders. 

“What are you three doing here?” Hermione asked with her arms folded. 

“Apparently, they are here to murder the young Mr. Potter and young Mr. Malfoy,” the Headmistress offered sarcastically. The curly-haired witch let out a deep breath. “I’ve sent for the boys to make it easier for these determined older wizards,” she sounded quite amused. Suddenly, a knock at the door thickened the tension in the room. Harry opened the door for the two boys, who were looking around nervously at their parents. The young Potter turned worriedly to his dad before the worry morphed into guilt when his eyes landed on Draco with his muscular arms folded across his chest. He glared at the boy and cursed James's bravery as the young wizard refused to look away first. Although Draco had dreaded this moment with the boy since he was a mere baby, he admired how he stood tall and attempted to face him like a man. 

“Mum, is everything alright?” Scorpius asked innocently, completely oblivious to the daggers Ron was glaring into his skull. 

“What have you done to my Rose?” Ron demanded, his anger rising on each word. The young, blond wizard looked startled when he realized the question was directed at him.

“Nothing!” he held up his hands defensively. “She sat next to me at a party last weekend and held my hand. That’s it!” he confessed as if he’d committed the most heinous crime. Pansy held her hand over her heart, glancing over to Hermione mouthing the word “aww” before both witches smiled sweetly at the Malfoy heir. 

“Is this the sort of thing that is allowed here?” Ron accused the Headmistress. 

“I’m sure you’ve never done anything so scandalous in the Gryffindor dorms as _holding hands_ , Mr. Weasley. As I recall it, you didn’t limit your activities with Ms. Brown to just the common room. The entire population of Hogwarts had the privilege of being sickened by your... _displays of affection_ ,” she challenged him, raising an eyebrow. Properly chastised, Ron’s face brightened as he swatted his giggling wife away. Even the Slytherins recalled how disgusting Ron and Lavender were as a couple during their sixth year.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, dear sweet boy,” Pansy said soothingly, dropping her hand from Ron’s and pulling Scorpius into a hug. 

“A Potter and a Malfoy glaring at one another. This must be what it looked like every time we interacted back in school,” Harry chuckled as he stood between his wife and best friend and watched his son face off with Draco. 

“James, darling, would you be so kind to come over here, so I may check your markings?” Hermione asked kindly to interrupt the apparent pissing contest happening between her husband and her future son-in-law. “Wipe that smirk off of your face, Draco. You didn’t win anything,” she admonished. He moved his hands angrily to rest on his hips. 

“I’ll just put up a privacy charm, so you can unbutton your school shirt,” Harry said as he whipped his wand around his son and shielded him from the rest of the room. When he finished, Hermione disappeared behind the invisible curtain to inspect James’s marks. 

“Oh, Draco, you must see this,” the curly-haired witch remarked absently. He hurried over at his wife’s beckoning, suddenly interested in the topic they’d been studying between themselves and the twins for almost twenty years. 

“Fascinating! It must be age-based. It has to be,” they began discussing possibilities of the sudden appearance of the additional rune. “Come over here, Scorp.” The younger Malfoy obeyed his father immediately and disappeared behind the curtain. 

“Only friendship. What does this mean?”

“Perhaps, when she turns fifteen, it will change?”

“Care to inform the rest of us of your little discovery?” Ron rolled his eyes. “Bloody swats,” he mumbled under his breath. Hermione and Draco came back into view, and the wizard looked somewhat relieved.

“Right. It seems as if the new marking, the rune for love-” the Gryffindor witch began.

“Aww!” Pansy squealed as Draco shot her a glare. 

“On Cassie’s fifteenth birthday, the rune for love appeared for her and James. The friendship rune remains, but they do not yet have the marriage rune as we do,” she motioned between herself and Draco. “Scorpius does not have the new marking, so we can safely assume that Rose doesn’t either. We believe,” she turned to her husband, “that on Rose’s fifteenth birthday she and Scorpius will also receive the rune of love,” Hermione finished explaining, turning to her ill-tempered best friend to gauge his reaction. 

“Bloody brilliant! It seems you have two more years to live before I kill you, Malfoy,” Ron warned Scorpius, grabbing his wife’s hand and heading toward the Floo.   
“He doesn’t mean that,” Pansy giggled as she disappeared with her husband behind a wall of green flames. 

“None of our friends have to face a room full of angry fathers every time they fancy a girl,” Scorpius huffed with frustration.

“We didn’t ask for this, you know,” James agreed, sobering the adults in the room. 

“Our entire lives, we’ve put up with glares and threats from you and Uncle Ron just because we met our soulmates before we could even know what it’s like to think about or feel anything for any other girl,” the younger Malfoy explained. A cold wave of guilt crashed over Draco’s conscience. Though he knew what it was like to be soul-bound, he also knew what it felt like to be a regular teenage boy with his pick of girls without feeling tied to them. 

“We have no desire to become teenage husbands right now. We just want to do well on our O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s when the time comes and finish school,” James said. “Not that I don’t love Cassie because I _really_ do,” he quickly added with a dopey smile. He didn’t notice the vein in Draco’s forehead ready to burst nor the fists clenched by his side. “Finally being able to kiss her was the greatest experience of my entire life-”

“We get it, James. No need to provide explicit details,” Harry cut his son off before he gave away too much of his desires. 

“What we’re saying is that we _know_ we have to...to _control_ ourselves,” Scorpius’s ears were stained pink, “because we’ve been warned about the consequences before we ever knew what all of it really meant.”

“Please just let us be normal for once,” James pleaded. “If either of us starts turning into whatever crazed sex machine you expect us to become, we’ll owl you immediately,” he finished. Draco’s mouth dropped in disbelief at the crass remark. He couldn’t believe this boy that was meant to one day be his son-in-law referred to himself in such a way in reference to the blond wizard’s baby girl. 

“That is fair. Right, Draco?” Hermione asked though he knew she wasn’t really asking as much as she was telling him to back off. He was pretty sure Ron would be getting an earful from her and Pansy as well. 

* * *

**January 2019**

Twenty years. It was hard to believe they’d made it through twenty years of marriage and four children. As Draco laid in bed reminiscing about the last two decades of their lives together, he felt Hermione begin to stir beside him. Their Caribbean hotel was furnished with a spacious king-sized bed, but throughout their marriage, his wife rarely spent a night unglued from his side. If he moved in the slightest way, she unconsciously filled in the space between them. 

“You’re supposed to be on holiday, so why are you already awake?” she asked in her sexy morning voice.

“There’s a beautiful, naked witch in my bed keeping me awake,” he whispered in her ear. Her hips ground against him in response to the deep tenor of his voice. A growl escaped his throat. His fingers dug into her hips as he slammed her against him. 

“Make love to me like our first time together,” she breathed. Merlin, she was irresistible. He rolled her to her back and gently stroked her side with featherlight wide circles. Slowly, his fingers neared her center without actually touching her there. He continued his loops endlessly basking in the softness of her skin. Before long, she was panting. “Please, Draco,” she urged him on as she raised her hips toward his hand. 

“Patience, my love,” he kissed her deeply. The more her body pressed against him, the more he would tease her by slowing his pace. At this rate, she’d peak soon from sheer lust. He nibbled his way down the length of her neck as his fingers massaged her ample breasts. They were heavy in his hands, and she keened in response. Moving further south, his tongue explored her pert nipples. He took his time with each one while Hermione ran her hands through his hair, pushing herself into his mouth. 

“I...need... _please,_ ” his wife pleaded with him. Draco loved when she begged. Without knowing how much longer he could hold back, he trailed his kisses across the expanse of her stomach down to her inner thighs. The moans pouring from her mouth finally convinced him to give her exactly what she wanted. He’d hardly begun to lick her sweet juices with the tip of his tongue before she came explosively, practically ripping his hair out by the roots. “Draco!” she finally screamed from the pinnacle of her pleasure. 

The beautiful witch was still coming back down to Earth as he slithered his way back up her body to kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself. He pulled away to gaze upon his angelic wife. Eyes closed. Shallow breaths. Long legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Breathtaking. 

“Look at me, Hermione,” he purred as he lined himself up with her entrance. Her bright brown eyes popped open and she stared up at him with awe. A small smile graced her lips; her hand lifted to his cheek. 

“I need you, Draco,” she whispered. Merlin, he felt as if he were eighteen years old again. The anticipation of making love to Hermione quickened his heart. They both groaned when he finally pushed inside of her. He slowly moved inside her at first, simply wanting to enjoy studying her lovely face as they moved together as one. It was all too much. His pace increased with each time she tightened around him and begged for more.

“I love you,” he panted, pistoning his hips faster and faster when he could not hold back any longer. She kissed him passionately in response and pushed her hips up at an angle he knew she often used when she wanted him to hit just the right spot. Draco slammed himself into her roughly as she moaned incoherent pleas for him to go harder and faster. Suddenly, her grip around his cock tightened. All rational thoughts escaped his brain, and he exploded inside his wife. With the last of his energy, he rolled her on top of him and fell asleep under the blanket of her love for him.

* * *

**September 2019**

_Dad,_

_Me, Lily, and Roosevelt are Gryffindors! You probably didn’t doubt that for a minute! It’s so great not to be left behind anymore by my brothers and sister when they left for Hogwarts without me. Don’t tell Uncle Blaise, but I’m really going to miss Bianca. I wish she came with us this year. If only she were born just a little sooner._

_Please let Grandfather know that I will keep a close eye on James and Cassie like he asked, but a guy can only take so much of watching his sister with her boyfriend. Gross! As if I didn’t see enough of that this summer!_

_Guess what? Headmistress McGonagall said I’d be able to try out for Beater this year! You always told me I had the talent, but I can hardly believe that I might be on the House Quidditch team as a first year!_

_Off to class for now! I love you!_

_-your favorite son,_

_Caelum_

* * *

**January 2020**

_Mr. Malfoy, (it seems inappropriate to refer to you as “Uncle Draco” for this particular letter)_

_The moment we’ve all been waiting for is upon us. On Cassie’s birthday, a third rune appeared for both of us. There is no need for Aunt Hermione to take a look; we can feel exactly what it is. We only told my parents over the holiday because we didn’t want to spoil Christmas for everyone._

_Since my dad has never experienced this level of want/need/desire/yearning, he suggested I seek your guidance about it. He warned me that you would hate this, but I don’t know what else to do. Scorp is unable to assist me with this matter since Rose doesn't even turn fifteen until next month. How in Merlin’s name did you handle this? And before you storm the school to murder me (again), know that I am trying to do the right thing._

_There are no salutations to make this less awkward,_

_James_

* * *

_James,_

_Perhaps it would help for you to imagine that whatever you do to my daughter, I will do to you._

_-Auror Malfoy_

* * *

“Merlin, for whom was that owl intended?” Hermione wondered curiously as she stared at her husband pacing the length of the room. “You practically ripped through the paper as you wrote it,” she raised an eyebrow in question. A flash of guilt crossed his features before he quickly schooled his expression. 

“No one. Don’t worry about it,” he averted his eyes. 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, what did you do?”

* * *

_James,_

_I apologize for my previous letter. You came to me for help, and my wife says that couldn’t have been easy for you. She believes you to be very brave. Our situation was slightly different than yours in that I had already inherited my fortune and knew I’d be able to take care of Hermione financially when the time came to make her my wife. Obviously, we were slightly older as well, so there wasn’t a ton of pressure on us to wait like there is for you._

_The main factor that held us back from taking the very_ _permanent_ _step to bring us together as husband and wife was knowing that as much as we both wanted to, we weren’t ready. You both have another year of school. Cassie dreams of joining the London Wizarding Ballet, you plan on training in the Auror program (which I’ll remind you that I assist in instructing). You will need to constantly remind yourself of what is best for Cassie and yourself. You love one another, so this will be enough to stop you from hastening a union you aren’t quite ready for._

 _My wife is_ _forcing_ _me to mention that there are other means of satisfying yourselves. Though I have far more expansive knowledge in how to properly please a woman than your father, I request you defer to him for advice in this department as I refuse to discuss it with you._

_Please do reach out if you have any questions or need more guidance. As much as I do hate this, I know how hard it is to go at it alone._

_-DLM_

* * *

**Many Years Later**

“We are gathered here today to lay Lucius Abraxas Malfoy to rest. He is survived by his wife, Narcissa, his son and daughter-in-law, Draco and Hermione, his four grandchildren and their spouses, Scorpius and Rose, Cassiopeia and James, Orion and Alessandria, Caelum and Bianca, his thirteen great-grandchildren, and his twenty-one great-great-grandchildren. He fought as a Death Eater in both wizarding wars, went to Azkaban three times, and was a right prat his whole young life until he reached the age of 54 when he became my best friend,” Arthur Weasley leaned heavily on a podium, his once bright red hair had either fallen out or whitened, and his back curved with age. 

Draco, an old man himself now, draped his arm around his wife as she wept for the man that hated her as a child but grew to love her as an adult. As a young man, he probably would have danced at his father’s funeral, but the man he’d known as a young boy had changed so completely in the second half of his life that it was hard to imagine life without him. 

“There are few here that remember the man he was before, and I refuse to speak of it further because of all the things he’d accomplished after his wife and son set him straight. His list of titles and achievements include Chairman of the British Children’s Quidditch League, Chairman of the Hogwarts Quidditch League, Boardmember of the London Wizarding Ballet, Honorary Team Grandfather of the Falmouth Falcons, and five-time winner of Britain’s Wizarding Philanthropist of the Year. 

These titles meant little to him compared to his family. If you were able to ask him his greatest accomplishment, it was loving his wife. All his pride was in his son, Draco, who he credited with single-handedly changed what it meant to be a Malfoy. His love and loyalty to his family were at the heart of everything he did. He’d have moved Heaven and Earth if it meant he could make them happy. And while he was able to shower those he considered to be in his inner-circle with gifts, it was the gift of his time that we all valued most. 

Ask my son-in-law, Harry, about taking dancing lessons with Lucius’s strict teaching style. The man forced Harry to attend class with young children until he perfected his technique. Ask his grandchildren what it was like to have their grandfather in the stands as they played Quidditch at Hogwarts, and for Caelum, professionally. His box seats for the Falcons were never empty when his grandson was on the pitch. While Scorp, Cass, Ori, and Caelum attended Hogwarts, he attended every Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor game cheering loudly with a charmed jersey he’d made, splitting itself in half with blue, green, and/or red as the occasion called. When his great-grandson, Leo, became the first and only Malfoy Hufflepuff, he recharmed his jersey to include yellow too. You could ask me about our weekly meetings at the pub in Muggle London, just so our Muggle friend could attend. After David’s death so many years ago, we continued our tradition, one I suppose I will continue on my own without my two best friends to accompany me,” Arthur broke then, his tears pooling on his lids like dew on a humid summer morning. As if on cue, Narcissa stood to embrace her husband’s greatest friend. He wasn’t able to finish his speech, but at least he’d had the nerve to get up there. Draco knew he couldn’t make it through the first few words of the speech he’d written to honor his father, so he’d chosen to stick by his wife, his only source of strength. 

As Narcissa stood at the podium in front of family and friends, Draco couldn’t help but pity her. She was lost without his father. They’d lived through the toughest times and made it through together to live happily the rest of their lives. The blond wizard knew it wouldn’t be long before his mother joined his father through the veil. If not for her need to plan his perfect funeral, she’d probably have followed right behind him. 

“The greatest legacies my Lucius could leave this world are all sitting in this room. In each Malfoy here, I see pieces of him. If not for his striking blond hair and cool grey eyes, it is in the passion, determination, loyalty, and love he passed down to all of you. When you think of my husband, think of a man who started from scratch many times over to finally become his true self. Life will be difficult, but it is never too late to right a wrong. You must adapt to life because it will not stop to accommodate people incapable of change. If he were here, he’d tell you to go forth and do good deeds for the noble and most ancient house of Malfoy,” Narcissa finished, appearing to be as elegant as ever though completely broken underneath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this story. Please let me know what you think in the comments. I'm pretty sure that wizards live longer than Muggles, which is why Lucius didn't die until way later in life and met his great-great-grandchildren.
> 
> Thank you to everyone that liked, commented, or followed this story! Your kind words were an inspiration to keep writing. This has been a tough year for all of us, but disappearing into this world every once in a while has helped me through it.
> 
> As stated in previous chapters, I do plan on writing some additional one-shots (or two, or three, or four-shots) for the Far Less Lost Series about Blaise and Luna, Scorpius and Rose, Cassie and James, and how Ori met his wife Alessandria.
> 
> In the meantime, I've signed up for two prompts in the DFFR 2.0: Magical Mayhem Challenge on AO3. I believe they will be revealed on April 3, 2021.

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to comment and let me know what you think of the story so far! Comments equal love!


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